


The Limit

by Xekstrin



Series: The LimitVerse [1]
Category: Storm Hawks
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 190,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will our heroes rise above the ashes of their past and survive to make this a better world for us all? Or are we all bound by mindless fate? Only time will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not with a bang, but a whimper.

The day started with a bang. Specifically, the _bang_! as Junko opened the automatic doors to Aerrow's quarters and leaped into the room, his thick feet crashing onto the floor. Taking a moment to locate the sky knight, he grabbed Aerrow by the shoulders and shook him in a panic.

"You gotta come! Quickly!" the wallop said, the white of his eyes encompassing almost two-thirds of his face. His dark pupils were dilated, his breath ragged. "Aerrow, hurry!"

Apparently with nothing further to say, he dumped the shaken Sky Knight onto the ground and dashed from the room, somehow managing to leave traces of his fear behind him. It was a tangible thing for Aerrow- fear. Sometimes, contagious. This was one of those times. He scooped up his daggers and followed the trail Junko left behind him, every possible scenario rushing through his mind and each one worst than the last. He tried not to let the fear take control of him, but these days it was just so hard. Every battle shocked him worse and worse, each scrape with death leaving him in a state of Stork-like paranoia.

And now his worst fears were becoming true.

He was only half-dressed, but didn't know if there was enough time to equip the rest of his light, leather armor. So when he crashed into the bridge where his squadron was waiting, he was a half-naked crazy man, armed to the teeth, and ready for just about everything except what actually awaited him.

A cake.

And banners.

Aerrow's mind processed it all just a little too late to avoid the streamers and the confetti as his whole crew jumped out of hiding and yelled:

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

**OoOoOo**

Thirty minutes later, Aerrow was fully dressed and red in the face as he carved out the first slice of cake. Finn salivated near his elbow, electric blue eyes trained on the cake. Piper was berating Junko in a corner of the room as Stork overlooked the whole scene from his place at the helm, leaning against the steering wheel with a pained smile on his face.

"I can't believe you flubbed up such simple instructions, Junko!"

"I was nervous!" Junko wailed, wringing his huge hands and looking ready to burst into tears.

Piper, taking pity on him, reigned in her temper and patted him on the back, but still couldn't bring herself to console him with words. Instead she marched over to the cake and cut herself a slice, muttering, "Well, sure was a surprise, wasn't it?"

Aerrow smiled humorlessly. "Ya think?" He ruffled the top of Radarr's fuzzy blue head, seeking motion to try and rid himself of the remainders of any nervous jitters. It was hard to get out of "battle mode". Radarr chittered, soft white icing smeared across his smiling face. "Even so... jeez. I thought something really bad had happened, the way Junko was carrying on."

Piper's mood darkened further. "He was supposed to tell you to come to the bridge because of cleaning duty. Must've panicked at the thought of "lying", or something."

Aerrow let out a long breath. "How about next year we don't celebrate my birthday... like... at all. Ever again."

Finn decided to jump in. "What?" he said, shocked. The dramatic exclamation was somewhat lessened by the fact that he had even more frosting on his face than Radarr. He wiped off his frosting mustache with one hand, carelessly cleaning himself on the legs of his pants. "But in two years you'll be, like, eighteen! A legal adult, man!"

"Highly overrated," Stork muttered from his position at the helm, his expression a carefully constructed sneer of disdain. The merb had long ago passed that point of supposed maturity, and his next birthday was already looming up on the calendar.

"You have to celebrate the big One-Eight!" Finn continued loud enough to drown out Stork's pessimism.

"I'm actually agreeing with Finn on this one." Piper grinned. "And that's saying a lot."

"I promise I won't flub it up!" Junko gave his best "puppy dog" impression. "Don't cancel on my account!"

Stork remained silent, though his eyes rolled heavenward.

Shrinking in his seat, the red-headed leader of the Storm Hawks gave in. "Ok, ok, fine. But don't make a big deal out of it. It's just a birthday."

"Yes, the celebration of yet another year in your process of..." Stork tore his eyes off of the controls long enough to stare vacantly at nothing in particular. His left eyelid twitched, a nervous tic that appeared whenever thoughts of doom and gloom crossed his mind. "... _decomposition_."

Radarr giggled once before diving into Aerrow's plate, seeing that he wasn't eating his cake. Aerrow smiled in spite of himself as his crew cheered at the thought of embarrassing their leader again in two years. Then Piper flipped on the music and the party was in full swing. She tugged at Aerrow's arm, pulling him up to dance, and he laughed and twirled her around. Junko and Finn were moshing erratically off-beat to the music and Stork finally relented. He flipped the _Condor_ into auto-pilot and sat down at the table to watch everyone else endanger themselves while he munched on chips and dip with Radarr. Piper, of course, would have none of that at a party she planned. After a few more rounds with Aerrow she peeled herself off of him and latched onto the merb, surprising him out of his seat and onto the impromptu dance floor.

"C'mon, green boy! Show us your moves!"

Stork stood frigid, flinching at being suddenly thrust into the spotlight. "I don't dance," the merb said, tone just as stiff as his body. "The probability of me falling and rupturing a body part while dancing are specifically-"

" _Boooooo_!"

Stork's words were drowned out by the collective shout of his crew mates. His long green ears flattened against his skull and he opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, probably sarcastic, but Piper cut him off. She put one hand on his shoulder and snatched his left hand with her right.

"Begin Operation Two of _Best Birthday Party Ever_. Radarr, if you would be so kind?"

Hearing his cue, Radarr switched off the up-beat, rocking party music that had been playing and replaced the record. Soft, melodic tunes floated out of the speaker, coaxing Stork into a more relaxed posture. Still, he was suspicious as Piper placed his hand on her waist. "I don't remember slow-dancing being included in the plan," he said warily. His left eye twitched, though not as pronounced as it usually was. Piper didn't even notice the warning sign, but even if she had it wouldn't have stopped her.

"I've got five hundred bucks against Finn that say you're going to dance with me tonight," Piper hissed into his ear, glancing at the smugly smirking Finn out of the corner of her eye. Stork followed her gaze to glare at the human in disgust, knowing that he had probably been the one to suggest such a dare in the first place. "I'll make it up to you later, ok?"

With his hatred of any sort of possibly strenuous physical activity being pitted against his strong urges to make Finn miserable, Stork felt himself being guided along by Piper. She was a better dancer than he was, and just by being with her it almost made him look like he knew what he was doing. Nervous, he shifted his hand from her waist to her back. He didn't want to feel as though he was groping the girl, thankyouverymuch. But besides that, he didn't know what he felt, wondering what, in the name of all that is holy, prompted him to engage in such frivolity. The human girl would look away from him every so often to shoot nasty grins at Finn, but otherwise she kept her dark orange eyes locked to his, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze or a "you're doing great" or "ignore everyone else" and the most common "try not to step on my feet so much, Stork!"

Before he knew it, the song was over and the bridge was alive with the cheers of the Storm Hawks. Stork whipped his hands off of Piper's body and crossed his arms, fighting back a pleased smile. The merb let out a huge breath, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't spontaneously combusted. Which was, of course, a highly probable way of dying when dancing with a member of another species.

"I knew you could do it," Piper said, throwing her arms around his neck in a fond hug before whirling around to see that Finn ducking out of sight behind the snack table. "Now, I have other business. FINN!" she roared, tracking him down. She grabbed the back of his shirt and hoisted him up where he whimpered in face of the onslaught, blue eyes watery. "Where's the money, bucko?"

"You cheated!" he accused, flailing wildly in her death grip. "Stork never dances."

Piper's voice was deadly sweet. "I've got three security cameras installed that will say otherwise if you feel like going over the data." Maybe that was a little too harsh, but Piper learned that being the only girl in an all-male environment made you harsh.

Aerrow, perhaps put out that his birthday had been used as a battleground between Finn and Piper, drew the two apart. "Listen, you two. As birthday boy I don't want any fighting on my... _special_..." he made a face. "Day, but as leader I like it even less. You guys know the rules."

Finn kicked the floor, his hands behind his back in a classic pose of dejection. Piper huffed and puffed but ultimately did nothing. When they spoke, it was in unison:

"No gambling on board."

It was a rule designed specifically for them, because Finn was always challenging her and she was always winning. Lips curling up in a smile, Aerrow reached over and pressed a button on the record player. "We're supposed to be having fun," he reminded them.

"I'm having fun," Piper objected.

Finn pulled a face. "I'm not."

"I'm terrified Piper is going to ask me to dance again." Stork felt a shiver roll down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Rapidly switching into girly-girl mode, Piper bounced over to him and tugged at his long-fingered, green hand. "Pleeeeease, Stork? I get a bonus if you do it twice. I mean..." She glanced at Aerrow, who had his hands on his hips. "I mean, I would have if Finn and I were still gambling."

"Most definitely." Stork wriggled free, holding his hand against his chest to protect it from further grabbing. "...Not." His left eyelid jumped and he slouched to the table where some merb-friendly chips were waiting for him.

**OoOoOo**

"I warned you."

Finn winced as Piper applied the cast to his broken arm while Stork hovered nearby, unable to prevent that dire statement from slipping past his lips. Finn, trying to show off, had attempted an elaborate dance move somewhat like breakdancing. Something broke, all right.

Aerrow sat nearby, morosely observing the situation for himself. "This is why I don't like birthday parties," he sighed.

"Are you OK, Finn?" Junko asked for the upteenth time, hovering just outside the room, peeking in from behind the door frame. His eyebrows were bunched together in worry, gray eyes shimmering.

"Hey, all the best parties have the most crazy accidents," Finn said, trying to strike his 'cool' pose but wincing when he found that moving around too much hurt. "When things get really wild, you know no one is gonna forget- _ow ow ow!_ Piper! Be gentle!"

"I'll be gentle when you pay the money you owe me," Piper said, but low enough so that only Finn could hear her. She pushed her midnight blue hair out of her eyes as she finished and sat back with a sigh to admire her handiwork. Stork had a supply of the stuff he kept in his closet (just in case) and like most of Stork's work, it ended up being useful.

"Just lie low for a while," she said. "And after that you might need a little physical therapy, and the muscles in that arm will probably have atrophied somewhat-"

Finn's hair always had the appearance of being on end, as if he has been electrocuted recently. It seemed to stand up straighter as he gasped in horror. "So you mean I can't go on missions?"

Aerrow pushed down on his shoulder to keep the blond from getting up too quickly. "Unless you're still a crack-shot with only one hand-"

"-I'm afraid you're going to be a liability in the near future," Piper finished smoothly. When he still seemed down in the dumps, she squished her critical side and sat down next to him, gently nudging him in the ribs. "Hey. _Relax_. You know as well as I do there's no real danger these days. It's not like when we first started."

Stork slithered into a nearby chair, curled up in Finn's room as he watched the proceedings to make sure the blond human wouldn't keel over and die. "Indubitably," he said, nasal voice sounding darker than usual. "At least now we're not scared the Dark Ace is going to show up and... er..." the merb's ear's flattened against his skull and he clasped his long fingers together. He trailed off into an awkward silence that Aerrow readily broke.

"Stork's got a point," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "No matter what, we know that threat is crossed off our list for good. So relax, Finn. Take a break. Practice shooting with your other arm, and we can still go on minor missions together. But I don't want you to push yourself, all right?"

"Aye, aye, Captain," Finn said, giving him a weak smile.


	2. Burst Your Bubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello- what the hell are you doing here? You made a really strange face this is a really uncomfortable air. I see I'm boring you-- Well maybe I'm boring myself too. That's why I need help, I'm cleaning blood off dusty shelves. I've been cut up in this room so many times it might take days.”

  
**Aerrow**.

 

 

It's been almost a week since my birthday. Honestly, I don't feel much different. Maybe some part of me expected to feel a big rush of something, as if the floodgates were opened and I was magically transported back to the way I used to be. But no, nothing really phases me the way they used to, back when we were still struggling to be recognized. Ever since the Dark Ace carved a permanent smile into my face, things have been steadily the same. Everything is just me going through the motions.

Two years.... but really, this is a recent development. I was fine until five months ago. Maybe it's the aftershock.

Doesn't seem like much time when you think about it in terms of days and weeks, but for me it's like an eternity in slow motion. Kinda like the way it feels when you're knocked off your Air Skimmer by your best friend during flight practice. My stomach (or maybe its some other organ I don't know the name of) feels like it's being squished up against the flesh of my belly as I fall, my arms outstretched. They reach for my Air Skimmer, but every second makes it smaller and smaller till its only a red blotch in my vision. No way to grab it now, but the wind pressure keeps my flapping arms straight out in front of me, still trying to reclaim my grip on the handlebars.

“Gotcha!”

Good old gravity. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion- so when Junko snatches me out of the air my organs naturally want to keep on falling. What results is a groty plunge as they're suddenly jerked to a halt. I groan, wondering if today's breakfast is going to end up splattered in the Wastelands down below.

“Th- thanks,” I say, squishing the urge to barf and sitting up straight in his arms. Junko beams, his large, leathery face stretching. Out of all of us, I think Junko has changed the least over the past two years. Mentally, I mean. Physically he's long past the days when bigger wallops would bully him in the school yard. I don't know if you've ever seen a fully grown male wallop before, but let's just say that most of you would probably be freaked. At almost seven feet tall, he's often troubled by doorways that were made to accommodate us teensy humans

“Forgot to strap on your wings?” he guessed, scratching at his nose horn, which had grown along with him. Rather than being a cute little stub in the middle of his face, it's now a few inches longer and capable of piercing through solid armor. 

“Yep. Didn't think I'd need it in a drill.” We had reached my Skimmer, so I hop on board and ruffle the top of Radarr's head. The little guy chitters; he had been waiting anxiously for me to reappear.

There's a soft purr of engines growing closer and sure enough, Finn pops up at my side as I get settled again. He lifts up his energy bolt with his good hand- the other is still plastered against his chest in a cast- and smirks.

“Finn for the win!” he shouts, waving the energy bolt in the air.

In response, I lift one leg high and kick him square in his side. He spins in midair, but with only one functioning arm left the outcome is obvious. He fumbles the energy bolt to latch onto his air skimmer. Crying out, he looks around wildly for the weapon and sees it tumbling downwards. With a roar, his air craft explodes downward and he snatches it out of the air, barrel rolling and aiming up at me. He lets a few shots fly, seemingly wild, but Finn never loses his cool when he's staring out the sights. Each one jolts my Skimmer and I grin, knowing the break is over. We circle each other, the three of us feinting and ducking in midair. Feeling the heat of engine flames inches away from my face and breathing in thick exhaust puts me in the zone. Finn and I break away, making wide turns and picking up speed as we point our crafts at each other, aiming for a head-on collision. I hear him cackle over the winds. Reaching across my body with my right hand to whip out the energy dagger that's strapped to my left shoulderblade, I hop onto the wings of my Air Skimmer. My legs spread wide, I prepare myself for the jarring motion of being under heavy fire. Finn sees his shots are having no effect and makes to dart off in another direction, but too late. I leap from my wings and crash onto his, forcing his chin up with the flat of my blade.

I wink at him, the blue light from my striker crystal lighting up his face.

He holds his good arm up in surrender.

“I would've creamed you if I had both my hands free,” he says.

I lower the blade without powering it up. “I know,” I say, just to humor him. Junko glides over, and more than just his engines are rumbling. Me and Finn give him identical looks of disbelief and he chuckles nervously, scratching his nose horn.

"Uh, think we can take a break for a snack?" he asks, looking hopeful. Smiling ruefully, I nod and he lets out a whoop. Revving up his engine, he zooms after the Condor, which is flying sedately maybe a mile or so to the east. 

We watch his large form shrink into the distance, silent. Already knowing I'm going to sound like a worry-wart baby's daddy, I mumble what I'm thinking anyway. "I think he might need a new ride soon. He's already too big for that one."

Finn smirks. "Think Repton'll mind if we steal his?"

That surprises a laugh out of me. The mental image of friendly Junko on Repton's menacing, spiky Bone Wing (not to mention the look on Repton's face if we actually did it) was enough to get even me smiling. We glide downwards, content to feel the morning breeze on our face. At this pace, by the time we would reach the Condor, Junko would probably already be half-way done with his second breakfast. It would mean I'd have to do the dishes again, since I had lost our last race to the big tree in Terra Atmosia to Finn (and everyone else, for that matter). Even though he was far from being the best Sky Knight, he was definitely the best shot and so fast it was almost scary. Faster than me, maybe.

"I've gotta say I'm impressed, Finn." I let Radarr take control of the skimmer and turn to Finn, relaxing in my seat. "Even with one arm, you kick some serious butt."

Finn regains some of his cocky swagger now that his defeat was already water under the bridge. He puffs out his chest. "Well, yeah," he says. "Did you really expect any different?"

"Nope. Anyone from my squadron could beat me with both their arms broken." 

Finn flushes. "Well, not you. But anyone else in Atmosia is welcome to throw down the gauntlet!" With that, he lets his engines explode to life and rockets off to the Condor. I don't follow him. Except for our sparring matches, I don't like to fly too fast anymore. Maybe it's a sign of maturity. Or maybe now I know how easy it is to fall.  

I let Radarr steer us home, one hand pressed against my face, feeling the scar on my left cheek burn under the touch.

 

**OoOoOo**

 

I jerk upright as I feel a swift slap to my ass. When I turn around with a red face, Piper is standing there with one of the dishrags I'd been using to clean Junko's mess with, twirling it in preparation for another flick. I stick out my tongue at her. "What was that for?" I demand, rubbing my injured rear. Radarr shakes his fist at her, blowing a rasberry.

Piper's answer is smooth. "For flying off with the boys when you promised you'd help me train today." She lets the towel flick again but I catch it with my bare hand, yanking it away from her. The woman was dangerous when angry. Radarr grabs the towel and runs off, laughing loudly with his prize held high above his head.

I shake my head, trying to focus. "Sorry. Can I make it up to you?"

"Sure. Let me help you finish the dishes."

I feel my face fall. "That... doesn't exactly sound like me making it up to you."  

"It does to me." Without waiting for an answer, Piper shoves past me and rolls up her sleeves. She gets to work on a huge platter that held Junko's scrambled eggs. I can only stand there in bemusement before remembering that the dishes were my job. I pick up another plate and help.

"I um..." I rinse the plate free of suds, looking at my own reflection in the porcelain. Though my expression should have been neutral, the long scar than ran from the edge of my lip into my cheek gave me the appearance of always smirking. I put the dish down, but the image stays. Manic and wide-eyed, the curling grin of a Cheshire Cat. "Piper..."

 

_\- My mouth is wide open. I'm petrified, unable to move, frozen in a position of obedience. On my hands and knees, looking up at him, the length of his blade reflecting blood red eyes. I can't move. His blade is in my mouth, pressing against the side of it. I can't move. If I stay still, I can think, I can get out of this mess. I can beat him still. I can reach for my daggers._

_"And where are your friends now?" he asks me. His free hand moves; a red striker crystal slides into the hilt and he jerks his sword to the side. I fall back screaming, my mouth filled with my own blood. He doesn't give me time to recover. He dives in, point first._

 

"Yes, Aerrow?"

I blink at Piper in confusion. She's drying the platter.  

  
_Cyclonis can only drag herself, her broken leg splayed out behind her. She pulls closer, inch by inch, over to his body until she is close enough to touch him, her eyes wide with disbelief. She is weak, her arms small and child-like, but she manages to hold up his upper body, presses her face against his chest, and begins to weep._

 

 

"What?" I ask. 

Impatient. "You were going to say something."

"I was?" 

"Uh, yeah." Piper puts the plate away and turns to face me again, her hands on her hips. "What was it?" 

I shrug. "I dunno. Guess I must've forgotten. I've been a little preoccupied lately. Sorry."

 

  
_"You killed him..." Her cheeks were still wet, but her eyes were dry._

_My hands are still shaking, too confused to even be scared. “You told me to."_

 

"I've noticed." Piper's voice is dry as she leans against the counter, studying me. It makes me uncomfortable to have her look at me like that. Out of everyone, I think Piper knows the reason for my strange behavior the best. "You're like a zombie, Aerrow. You don't even want to train anymore. What're you gonna do when the time comes for the Storm Hawks to fly into battle again? When it's time to fight again?"

I set my face into a hard expression. "Fight who?" I shake my head. "There's no one left to fight. Things are quiet. And hopefully they'll stay that way." I look over her shoulder at the pile of dirty dishes left for me to do. Can't she leave me alone today?

"Hopefully," Piper agrees; I try to reach for more dishes but she's blocking my path. "But hope isn't enough. Just because the Dark Ace is gone doesn't mean everything is hunky dory. Cyclonis is still out-"

Crash.

The porcelain on the floor reflects her shocked, dark eyes. Even then it takes a second for me to realize I had dropped the plate. A small ripple had gone through me when I heard _her_ name. None of us had said it until now- her name was taboo, and god damn it, Piper just broke it so I might as well too. “Cyclonis?” I spit, almost mocking the name that I had been avoiding for so long. I'm so scared, but more than anything else I'm _enraged_. "What can Cyclonis do on her own? She's had two years to act." The little bits of plate crunch under my boots as I take steps forward, cornering Piper in against the counter. I'm close, but I keep my distance, if that makes any sense, and every muscle in my body is stiff and quivering with rage. I know how I must look, but I can't stop. "Her forces are dissolved, Ravess and Snipe are behind bars, Repton stays on Bogaton with his little posse. And I hate to remind you-" With my left hand, I reach to the energy dagger I have strapped to my right shoulderblade. I pull it out, activating the striker crystal embedded in the hilt.

Red light bathes the kitchen in a demonic glow.

"-But the Dark Ace is far from gone." 

I sheath the sword with a snap. Piper winces at the sound and I hate myself a little more.

Before anything else could happen, though, a green blur rushes into the kitchen. Stork skids to a halt, sounding like he's having a minor asthma attack. "There's... big trouble...!" he wheezes, his normally jungle-dark skin an unhealthy pale green. "Big... big..." Yellow eyes widen. "Trouble!"

He leaves. 

I meet Piper's eyes.

"...Let's go see what it is," she says. I can only nod and run after her to the bridge, where Junko, Finn, and Stork are already gathered around our communicator. The strangest part I notice is the frequency. That's the special channel only my squadron knows. When we're separated from the Condor we could call in and send out reports. My first thought is: Starling. 

But the face on the screen was not a Storm Hawk. Not even an honorary one.

"Storm Hawkssss."

Repton's hard face glares into our communicator. In the background I can see all three of his squadron hanging around, and the dry landscape of Bogaton stretches on behind them.

It seemed shady that this pirate would call on me- from a private number just as I had finished talking about him. A familiar weight on my shoulder lets me know Radarr had come back from hiding the towel somewhere, and I reach up with an idle hand to stroke his long neck. "Repton," I say, not unkindly. "What do you want?

Repton's scaly face twists into a smirk. "To see your smiling face, Aerrow. But I think this screen doesn't do the new Dark Ace any justice. I called in because-" 

One of Repton's flunkies- the skinny one with the lisp, Spitz- jumps forward and fills up the screen with his lurid yellow face. "The Both demandth to thpeak with you in perthon, Thky Knight!"

There's a moment of bewildered silence from my squadron. As usual, it's Finn who breaks it.

"You don't thay," he muses in an uncanny impersonation of the unlucky Raptor. Junko giggles. "That'th quite a requetht. But thumthing tellth me Aerrow would rather think to the bottom of the Wathtelandth than ever lithen to thum overgrown lithard."

Spitz grew incredibly flustered after that, shouting curses and foul words at Finn as the other two Raptors began to drag him away. Repton filled the screen again, visibly reigning in his infamous temper. I smile at him, silently applauding Finn and fighting back laughter. 

"Please... excuse my... subordinatesss," Repton manages to grind out after a moment. 

"Consider him excused."

"And get to the point already," Piper adds, glaring daggers at him. I have to hold her back with one hand to keep her from pressing her face up against the screen, only to realize how much I dislike touching her and pull my hand back sharply, as if from a hot plate.

"I don't trust the airwaves," Repton says obliquely. "We must meet in person."

I don't even pause to think. "Terra Atmosia. The large tree in front of the Sky Council headquarters."

"Terra Atmosia?" Repton hisses, his barking words tumbling over each other as he begins to hiss in anger. "Are you mad, Dark Ace? They'd ssshoot down my squadron before I ever came within hailing distance!"

"Not if I tell them not to," I remind them. "If you're so desperate to meet with us, I want to be 200 percent sure you're not setting up a trap." There's steel in my voice as I let go of Piper, leaning into the screen so Repton can look me in my eyes. "End of discussion."

I fall silent, motioning behind my back to my squadron to keep their mouths shut as well. I want to give him time to consider his options, which were simple: follow my instructions, or maintain his exile in Terra Bogaton. He shocks me by doing the last thing I expected: agreeing. "Very well then," he says, tongue flickering in anxiety. "I see I was right in choosing you. You're just the man for the job, Dark Ace." He drags out that last syllable, ending it with an overly pleased hiss.

"No need to use titles." One hand clenches my red striker crystal. Radarr, from his spot on my shoulder, grabs my hand and pries the fingers loose, firmly but gently shoving my hands back down to my sides to where they wouldn't fidget.

"Terra Atmosia then." Repton's tongue flicked across his yellow eyeball. "I expect to see you there in three days time, sunset of the third day. Don't be late." 

"I'm never late for a fight."

Repton snorts once, looking amused. "You think I'm calling you out for a _fight_ , cowboy?" he asks cryptically before shutting off the connection.


	3. Crash The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Innocence is way overrated now. Choking this sober feeling down. I guess you've come over me. So define 'lonely'. So define 'lonely'. So define 'lonely'."

**Piper**

Crimson facets reflect my eyes narrowed in concentration, peering into the crystal. Trying to discover its secrets. Finn had brought it to me a while ago from one of his expeditions outside to help me with my cartography projects, but I hadn't had the opportunity to examine it fully until now. I had picked it up mindlessly searching for something to distract me from our meeting with Repton in three days, but now it's become more than just a means to entertain myself. I think this crystal may have me obsessed.

The innocuous ruby-like striker crystal is similar in its composition to Aerrow's. The Dark Ace's striker crystal is much more potent, of course, having been passed down from generation to generation and acquiring power as it grew old in the hands of the greatest warriors to ever fly the skies of Atmos.

This glowing red stone in my hands, in other words, has the potential to do the same.

I sit back in my chair and rest my hands over my eyes. My small brown hands, scarred and toughened from years of nicking them on the ends of broken crystals and scorched by the fires of experiments gone out of control. Light cut off, my eyelids close and I feel my forehead slowly relax from its previous, troubled set. But somehow I can still see that red fire, like the fires of the fictional hell of the religion other, less-busy people had the energy and free time to follow.

_"I hate to remind you, but the Dark Ace is far from gone."_

Propping my legs up on my desk, I lean back as far as I can and let my arms dangle at my sides. The moment I stop gushing over the wonderful crystals in my possession all I can think about is Aerrow. Even crystals, my supposed safe haven from all this teenage angst, brings me back full circle. Aerrow is the Dark Ace now. Maybe I should give the crystal to him so he can get rid of that old blue one he still clings to. The power of crystals that have already been mined and manufactured for use in weapons or items, like his blue striker (no matter how expensive or rare they say it is), sometimes fade with age and use. His is already more than five years old.

Maybe its time to let go of it already and add onto the legend of the Dark Ace. They way he uses the Dark Ace's red crystal on his left blade and his old blue one on his right sometimes disturbs me. Red and blue are supposed to mold well together, but every time he has both of them drawn it feels like the light from their crystals compete for space. Two reds would look better together... right?

I curl up in my seat, on my side now, the crystal held to my chest. It's warm.

Many times, swamped with work or a new obsession, I had fallen asleep just like this, with my newest project close to me, but now all I can do is stare at the wall, my face scrunched up almost as if I'm in pain.

Maybe I am.

_"Noooo! Junko!"_

I jump from my seat, losing my carefully-maintained balance and falling all over the floor of my workshop. I pocket the red striker crystal. All the red flags and alarms are ringing in my head as I dash from my room to the bridge, skidding to a halt at the same time as Aerrow, who must've been frightened by the scream of rage and pain as well. We look at each other, his shockingly green eyes questioning me in case this turned out to be a false alarm like it had been on his disastrous sixteenth birthday party.

But I don't even need to say anything for him to know. Finn is kneeling on the floor of the _Condor_ , his good hand holding the bandages on his broken arm as red blood slowly seeps through them. His eyes are clenched shut to keep tears of pain at bay. Junko hovers over him, horrified and frozen in shock.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he says over and over again, backing away.

"Just... get... Piper...!" Finn wheezes, his mouth open and concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out, trying to block the pain.

"I'm here!" I say quickly, falling to the floor next to Finn and trying to get him to let go of his broken arm. "Finn, what happened? Are you all right?"

Stork speaks behind me. "Oh, him? He's fine and dandy. Perhaps just a little more noisy than usual, but..." I hadn't noticed him since my eyes had been focused on the bloody scene in the middle of the room, not the pilot's area near the front. I glance over my shoulder at him; he's standing with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, but otherwise could have been watching a boring movie. I burn with anger at the merb and ignore him, shifting my attention to Junko instead.

Aerrow beats me to the punch. "What happened, Junko?"

"My fault," Finn says between hissing, clenched teeth. "I was stupid. I think... I think I broke it worse." He gives a shout of pain as I try to remove the broken cast, and he shrinks away from me. "Don't touch it!" he gasps, his beach-tanned face unnaturally white.

But I had already seen the damage- a shining, jagged white stump. Whatever Junko had done, Finn's arm bone had been fractured terribly. The bone had broken through the skin, and if it had ripped any important arteries Finn could bleed to death while I watched. I had to do something. But what? My expertise was in crystals and recon, not healing. Something of this level was beyond me.

But if I just stood here and did nothing, my best friend would die because of an accident. Terra Atmosia had the best doctors and hospitals in the world, but that was days away. We would never make it in time at this rate. The front of Finn's shirt is splashed with blood, and the stain rapidly spreads to drip onto the floor. It's bright red, and gushes out in spurts. His artery is definitely ruptured. While applying pressure to his upper arm, my mind frantically thinks of what to do next. A tourniquet? I can do that. But I certainly can't set the bone. Do we have the right material for a splint? I don't know. I don't… I…

I... I...

I close my eyes, trying to keep the blood inside my friend where it belonged, red, hot lights pounding behind my eyelids, searching for an answer. But I don't know what to do. I just don't.

"Well, seeing as how you're already on course for Terra Atmosia, I believe a detour to Terra Tenebria wouldn't be too terribly difficult."

An involuntary gasp. My eyes swivel around to see a figure in purple stride into the room, intense green eyes take in the situation in an instant. "Stork," my hero says in a tone that brooked no argument. "You should know the way."

He seems less surprised by the arrival of Starling of the Interceptors than what she had said. His long green ears flatten against his head. "How do you know about Terra-?" he starts, but Aerrow cuts him off.

"We don't have time for that," he snaps. He faces Starling. "Will we find help there?"

"No help per se," Starling says, "But on Terra Tenebria grows a rare plant that will heal just about any wound."

"Merlop." Stork's voice is quiet.

"Exactly."

Aerrow looks from Stork to Starling, confusion on his face. "All right then," he decides. Why is Stork glaring at Starling? "Stork, set a course for Terra Tenebria... whatever that is."

And although it's not that surprising that Aerrow doesn't know the name of an obscure Terra, the fact that I had never heard of it in my life makes me feel only even more lost. And how had Starling gotten on the ship this time? How did she always manage to appear when I looked the most incompetent? Why couldn't she ever stay with us instead of striking out on her own? Maybe if she had become a part of the Storm Hawks... Maybe Aerrow wouldn't have that scar on his face, and maybe Finn wouldn't be dying right now.

She sits down next to me and Finn as she reaches into her pack and pulls out an emergency med kit. "Here, Piper. Help me remove his cast and we can use something I have here to stem the bleeding until we reach the Terra."

Despite the intensity of the situation, or maybe because of it, my heart rate spikes when she calls me by name. It's been so long since I've heard her calm voice, I'm so scared, I can't even pretend I know what I'm doing and that I'm totally in control of the situation. Without a word, I reach for Finn's cast again. All I can do is follow her orders.

"Finn, you're gonna need to stay really still, all right?" I soothe the blond.

"N-no!" he says, inching away from me. "Maybe if we just leave it alone, I'll-"

"You'll die," Starling says, echoing my thoughts. "Finn, if you don't calm yourself now I'll be forced to have you held down while I administer a sedative." Holding up a ridiculously large needle from the pack, she meets his eyes calmly, her eyes a sea of tranquil green. While Finn is distracted, I motion to Junko who stands at the ready, willing to do whatever he can to remedy the situation he caused.

I peel the cast off and before Finn can scream Starling shoves a rag in his face. Junko holds him by his good shoulder and I cup the back of his head, forcing him forward. He struggles for a moment, but he eventually breathes in the fumes emitting from the rag and falls limp into my arms. Starling presses the needle into Finn's arm, just above the breakage.

"You mean that's not the sedative?" Aerrow asks her in surprise, eyes on the needle.

She shakes her head. "No. This is concentrated Zartacla leech saliva. I've used it several times when one of my team mates would get seriously injured in the field- it works as a sort of tourniquet. The venom spreads around the affected area and cuts off the blood flow. It's only a temporary solution, and if we don't heal it soon he'll live but the arm..." Starling, for the first time since she stepped into the ship only two minutes ago, hesitated in her next words. "...won't."

Her hands are a blur. A loud snap fills the grim silence of the Condor as she puts the bone back in place with expert ease and rests Finn gently on the floor.

She meets my eyes, expression deadly serious. "I've bought you two hours."

Stork visibly shivers from his post at the helm. "That's all?" he asks, horrified. "To get to Terra Tenebria from here?"

"Would you rather attempt going for Terra Atmosia?" Starling quips back. "I know you're the best pilot around, but even that would be impossible for you."

Junko is kneeling next to Finn, resting the blond head on his lap. "Fly, Stork," he whispers. "Fly fast."

Stork reaches for a lever next to the wheel, the ends of his mouth curled downward in a sneering grimace.

"If you _insist_."

He yanks down on the lever and the _Condor_ lurches forward, her engines roaring with a fury that matches my racing heart, blood churning in my ears as I wait.

**OoOoOo**

The screams of howler monkeys assault my ears. We step out of the _Condor_ into the choking humidity of the ruins of a city in the middle of a swampy jungle. I look around me at the crumbling statues overgrown with ivy and weeds, recognizing some of the plants as being endangered or dangerously poisonous.

"This is Terra Tenebria?" I ask myself out loud, my breath only a mutter.

"All right Starling," Aerrow says louder while Radarr snaps his goggles on. "Lead the way to this Burlap or Headlock or whatever its called. We've got maybe one hour left before Finn loses his arm."

Starling stands next to her purple skimmer, calm as usual. "I don't know the way," she says.

"What?" Junko's shaggy green hair rises up, bristling, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean," she says, "That Stork knows the way better than I do. Terra Tenebria is the ancestral home of the merbs."

We all look to Stork for confirmation. His angular face jerks up an down in an angry assent, large eyes glaring at Starling. "It's a secret that only merbs are allowed to know," he says in a low growl. "Even those few humans who know Tenebria exists don't go near it because of the dangerous predators and virus-carrying mosquitoes larger than your head. Breathing in the pollen of certain flowers would lead to certain death or excruciatingly painful genetic mutations. Humans who stay here longer than two weeks become addicted to the gases in the atmosphere and cannot leave without dying from the symptoms of withdrawal."

He pauses, so solemn not even his left eye was twitching.

"If anyone ever knew merbs were familiar with the Terra we'd be hunted down as used as guides whether we liked it or not. Many treasures remained after the merbs migrated from here over two hundred years ago. As to how you know so much about it..." his ears flatten against his head again, but I interrupt.

"Do you know the way to the merlop or not?"

He turns his gaze to me. "...Yes."

"Then take us to it."

He nods. "For the sake of Finn's life, I'll do it. However, skimmers are strictly forbidden. One false move and you would alert the garastons to our presence!" At the unfamiliar word, he shivers uncontrollably and his left eye twitches like mad.

"Fine then. I'll stay here with Finn and the _Condor_ , and-"

Stork slithers up to me, his face up close to mine. "Absolutely not," he says, green snout quivering oh-so-slightly. "I need your help with this one Piper. Starling, you, and I will go. Aerrow's hair would prove an attraction to just about every marestur within a five mile radius. Junko is too large for the waterfall and he's probably the only one- besides me of course- who could handle the garastons." He looks up in almost admiration to the large wallop we call our friend, his ears somehow relaxing from their tense position. "With your knuckle busters you'll probably be able to take down at least three of the brutes before they devour you alive."

Junko scratches the back of his head. "Uh, thanks I guess. I'll stay with Finn and Aerrow."

The edge of Stork's mouth twitches up. "You do that. Let's go!" He charges through the underbrush with surprising energy for the normally timid merb, and it's all I can do keep up with him as he leaps and bounds through the jungle like he belongs there. Which he probably does, now that I think of it. I can hear Starling's soft steps behind me taking up the rear of the party, and Stork muttering odd words over and over to himself.

He hurdles over a fallen log, rolling and then coming back up to his feet on full alert, crouching low with his four-fingered hands stretched out as far as they could go, his eyes darting all around him and his long ears swiveling around like tiny radars, searching for sounds. His left eye twitches. "This way," he says, moving slower as he reaches up and rips aside hanging vines to reveal a damp, dark hole. "You'll have to crawl, but it's safer than the path through the swamp. _Much_... safer." He drops to all fours and wriggles through the hole, which is a tight squeeze for the lanky merb.

"Don't worry Piper, I'm right behind you," Starling whispers, putting her hands on my shoulders and making me start.

"R-right!" I say, wrenching free from her and crawling into the dank, dark space. It's rather cozy for me, since I'm a lot smaller than Stork. He seems to be having trouble squeezing through the tighter spaces, and I'm glad claustrophobia doesn't seem to be among his lists of frightening things. I can't help but notice how well Stork blends into his surroundings, and how this frightened, jumpy nature of his seems to fit the role of prey surrounded by predators. If this was the ancestral home of the merbs, that kind of mentality would have helped them survive...

I'm so lost in thought I bump my head against a low point in the small cave. "Ow!" I hiss, stopping long enough to curse under my breath before flattening myself as close to the ground as I can and gasping through that tight space to be face to face with Stork, leaning over me.

"We're outside again," he says, eyes darting every which way, grabbing me by my wrist and pulling me up. For the briefest moment I regress back to childhood, wishing my father was there to hold my hand. It leaves me when Stork's cool, slightly damp grip loosens and he focuses around us once again. He waits till Starling crawls out of the hole on her own before covering it again so that only the keenest eyes could have spotted it. "There are still a few merbs who live around here, but I can't be sure if they're friendly or-"

Shhhooop!

We all freeze as a long spear quivers to a halt just next to my head, vibrating still in the trunk of the tree it had embedded itself in.

"-Not," Stork finishes in a whimper, cringing.

 _Outlanders_ , a voice hisses from all around us. Starling, Stork and I shift so that we form a triangle with our backs to each other, each of us trying to locate the voice. _State your business and how you came to learn of the land of death._

"Please," I speak out. "One of our friends is dying."

"We seek the plant you call merlop," Starling takes up where I left off. "This is Stork-"

"-Son of Hibiscus Snowfire!" Stork adds, his luminous yellow eyes blinking.

"I am Starling of the Interceptors," my hero continues, giving Stork an odd look before continuing. "And this is Piper of the Storm Hawks. We're Sky Knights of Atmos, and protect the paths between the Terras from those who would harm the weak and the innocent."

_Assuming you find the plant, it is yours. We will not aid you. Sky Knights mean nothing to us. However, Hibiscus was once a well-respected merb. His son may pass with only one of you, so long as she is pure._

"Piper of the Storm Hawks is a maiden with hands white like the water lilies." Stork rubs his long hands against each other nervously. "I can attest to that."

_Very well. You two may pass; the purple female must remain where she is or suffer the wrath of the Old Ones. When you leave this place, speak of it to no one. Our ears are long and our claws reach all. You have been warned._

And like a cloud that passes over the sun, the malignant force we felt in the trees all around us dissipates until all that is left are the sounds of the jungle. "Pure?" I manage to croak out to Stork. "That's why you needed me?"

He shrugs. "I didn't want to go alone. And uh.." He smiles nervously at Starling. "No offense, but I don't know where you've been."

"None taken. Now get to that merlop before its too late!"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"Stay in the tunnel," Stork warns her, jerking the spear that the native merb had thrown at me out of the tree trunk. He tests its weight for a moment, and seeming satisfied with it, keeps it close to him and motions for me to follow him. "C'mon, Piper."

And we're on the move again, trekking deeper into the heart of the jungle.

**OoOoOo**

"Now," Stork whispers to me, parting some vines ahead of us with the point of his spear. "The last time I came here the garastons were using this area as a nesting ground. They only return here at night unless the females are incubating the eggs. During the daytime females, when not nesting, travel through the waters of the swamps like crocodiles, waiting for something to come close enough to grab and eat. Males travel by land, so those are the ones Junko and Aerrow need to concern themselves with. And those are only the start of it. During the night, when the garastons are asleep... the maresturs prowl." He shivers.

"Wouldn't it be easier to go around this place, if there are females here?" I ask him nervously, looking around at what looks like a war zones. Craters- the garaston nests, I suppose- litter the patch of clear ground devoid of all plant life.

"No," he says, voice firm. "If we steer clear of the nests, they won't bother us. Be careful where you step; some nests are hidden by debris."

I can only look at him in utter bewilderment. "How do you know all of this?"

"Let's go," he says, stepping into the open with his spear at the ready. I have to follow him or be left behind. Barely breathing, we silently move through the nesting ground and make it all the way across, once or twice almost stepping on a hidden nest. I can see the mother garastons breathing, like giant lumps of brown dirt someone's God decided to animate. Before I know it, we're on the other side and running to create some distance between ourselves and the nests. We come to a halt maybe twenty minutes later, very aware that we're running on borrowed time.

"How much farther?" I ask him.

"The waterfall is just ahead," he says. "After that we're free, as long as we don't run into any male garastons."

And as he says that, he pushes aside some bushes to be faced with luminous yellow eyes. A heavy snort. Stork shrieks like a little girl, stumbling backwards with the point of his spear held out defensively. "Stay back, you!" he shouts, jabbing into the air. "I'm warning you! I know Sky Fu!"

The figure speaks.

"Snowfire."

I'm shocked by what I see. A brown merb steps out of the foliage, sharp teeth grinning. She's four feet tall if she's an inch, and the merb seems to be younger than Aerrow was when we first started the Storm Hawks.

When she speaks, it's in loosely sketched sentences, erratic and twitchy, one clawed hand trailing along her face as though to scratch a persistent itch. Her long tongue slithers out once in a fashion that feels decidedly indecent to me. "I heard you're looking for merlop. So I went through the waterfall for some. I have it, here… If you want it." She dangles the merlop just above her head and shakes it. The plant is actually a flower of the hibiscus family, bright purple. A drop of water collects on the long petals and falls to the floor before anyone says anything.

"Uh, you two know each other?"

Stork fixes me with a disgusted glare. "She's crazy," he mumbles, brushing the dirt and twigs off of himself.

"He forgets to mention I'm his sister," the female merb is quick to add, her left ear flapping once before both ears flicker to point at Stork like radars while her eyes trained on me.

Stork's voice is dead, more tired than anything else. "Olive, the fight's over. Go on home to your father, assuming he's still alive." He eyes her, ready to weigh her answer- whatever it might be. I look from him to her and back again, thoroughly confused.

"Oh no, I killed him just like you saw," Olive says. "Dying was the first thing he did after you left, and I took over."

He shifts, hands at his side and leaning forward, chin lowered. "Good for you."

"You know, I've had a lot of time to think about you, Snowfire. Have you thought about me?"

But without waiting for him to respond, she hurls herself at him. Stork neatly sidesteps her advance, letting her lunge into the forest nearby. I hear an, ' _ouch_!' and a ' _gh- I'm stuck_!' and Stork idly scratches the tip of his nose.

"We'll get more merlop ourselves," Stork states. "We've wasted enough time as it is."

"But, your sister-"

"-will be fine." Stork straightens up and continues through the forest. "If she gets eaten, she deserves it."

My expression goes wide in shock. "Stork!" I say. "How can you say something like that? She obviously…" I search for the right word, remembering those indecent movements. "…cares for you."

Stork pulls his ears in agitation. "No she doesn't! The little creep wants to murder me in my sleep! Why do you think I left this place?"

Before I can answer, we hear a high-pitched, maniacal set of giggles. A loud crash fills the jungles as a tree topples over. Stork grabs me around my middle, dragging me out of the way as another tree is tossed to the side and the largest, ugliest creature I've ever seen slavers over us. It stands on two legs like a human, but with faded-yellow, dirt-brown scales covering every inch of its amorphous mass, a square head set on shoulders with zero neck and burning, solid red eyes. Olive sits perched on one of his shoulders, her mouth open in surprised laughter.

"Well, hell-o," she says, waving to Stork. "Look what I foun _oop_ -" the thing snatches her off his shoulder, roaring full in her face so loudly that her lank brown hair and long ears flap in the wind.

Stork can only stare in dismay for a few moments before he snaps out of it, shaking his head roughly. "Piper! Distract it! In between the toes!" He made a jabbing motion with his spear and I nod, whipping out my own energy staff and equipping the red striker crystal Finn brought me. We run like a well-oiled machine, Stork surprisingly graceful in what I now know is his home environment. Leaping up onto the trunk of a thin, springy tree, he launches himself like a catapult onto the monster's back, using the massive scales as footholds to clamber up to the back of its neck. The big male garaston doesn't even seem to notice him, still trying to figure out what the small, squalling object in his hands was saying.

While he's doing that, I charge recklessly towards the feet of the stomping monster, the red striker crystal equipped in my energy staff. The red glow bathes the forest in shimmering light, and I thrust forward and up as the monster lifts one foot to squash me, sticking him right between his toes and blasting with the power of the striker crystal. The creature screeches so loud I'm almost deafened. I roll out of the way, pulling my staff out while the bull garaston stampedes with Stork barely hanging on. The monster lets go of Olive and the merb girl plummets to the earth. I lunge around the monster's stomping feet and leap into the air, catching her in my arms, tumbling to safety far away.

"Gotcha! You all right?"

Olive grins at me. "That was fun," she says. And before I can do anything else she's running back towards the monster, hollering at the top of her lungs.

"Heeeee-yaaaah! The wrath of the Old Ones burns bright! Show no mercyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

With her powerful legs she leaps straight up, as in, all twelve feet up, with no help or crystals that I can see, hurling her spear into the garaston's wide open mouth. And as I gape in wonder and disbelief, I notice only now the marked differences between her and her "older brother". Something about her had been not quite right, but I'd been so oblivious to what was truly wrong with her because I just couldn't _fathom_ it. Her legs are shaped oddly- backward bending, like blizzarians, and corded with muscle. But Stork has almost human legs...

And he certainly doesn't have a tail.

I'm shocked out of my musings by Stork's responding scream to Olive's war cry. Finally balancing himself on the back of the garaston, he lifts his spear high above his head and sends it plunging down into the garaston's neck, in between the plates of steel-hard scales.

The garaston stops, completely and utterly dead. With the sound of a great tree falling he sways and then crashes face first into the ground, Stork crouching on his back on all fours, like an animal. His face is oddly blank until he slowly straightens up, examining one hand.

"Ugh," he said, shuddering. "I scratched myself. Watch it get all infected now. Just my luck." Lightly stepping off the corpse of the garaston, he walks past me, shaking his head as though ridding himself of unpleasant thoughts. I'm frozen in shock. "Come on now, Piper. We need the merlop if that little monster over there won't hand hers over."

As if just remembering she was there, he stops to turn his head and glare at Olive, who does nothing but smile in return. "Get away from me," he says, and continues walking. Olive ignores his order and follows close at his heels, giggling excitedly, but I just can't move.

Is this the real Stork?


	4. If I Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave. Tell me I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad man."

**Stork**

The three of us- Piper, Olive and myself- stand on the edge of a natural bridge that spans over the foam and sharp rocks of the waterfall. The water is crystal clear. Still, that doesn't mean anything. Not all disease-carrying microbes came from stagnant, ugly water.

Dimly, I can make out a dark, round silhouette behind the curtain of cascading water, but one false move means plunging straight into the lake below. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and run as fast as I can, leaping from the end of the bridge and crashing through the sheet of water, landing ungracefully on the other side of the passage with my heart beating out of control. A clearing, with the blue sky actually shining down on us rather than being hidden by the canopy of the jungle. Flowers in bloom, beautiful and nostalgic. When I came here for the first time as a child, I remember wanting to stay here forever. Now I just want to go back to my real home- the _Condor._

After me, with considerable less panic, comes Olive and Piper. The human girl notices me lying on the floor and kneels next to me.

"Are you all right?" she asks. Maybe she's finally developed a healthy sense of paranoia. Such concern over me might have made me feel honored if she just wasn't standing so close. I flinch away from her, cringing.

"That thing," I surprise myself by being able to talk. Lifting one leg, I scratch the back of my neck where I'm certain my heat rash has spread. "Scares the crap out of me every time I do it."

Her dark face frowns in confusion. I realize how I must look and pause, dropping my foot. "Is it dangerous? So far it's been the easiest part." Her normally gravity-defying hair is plastered against her face and she wrings the water free from it. I get up on all fours, shaking myself like a dog, before standing up straight and examining our surroundings. I don't answer her question.

"No, Snowfire is just even more paranoid than those things people think are merbs."

I glare at Olive, who winks back at me. Ugh.

"We're on borrowed time, people." My voice trails off dangerously high-pitched as the stress catches up to me, like it always does. " _Meeeeer_ lop!"

"Over there," Olive points to a cluster of purple flowers. I lope over to them, my nose twitching at the strong scent. Ahh yes. Piper is soon at my side, delicately cradling one bloom in her hand.

"This is it?" she asks, looking up at me with amber eyes wide. My left eye twitches and my hands turn into fists without me ordering them to.

"Oh yes," I say in a throaty hiss. "I've never forgotten what it looks like. We're lucky it's plentiful this time of year..." I feel Olive sneaking up from behind. "Otherwise we might have had to steal it from someone." Used to this by now, I casually step to the side, impassive as Olive whizzes by me so close my hair is ruffled by the air in her wake. Sometimes, Olive tackles to hug. Judging by the knife in her hand, this wasn't the case today. By the time she turns around she's hidden it back into the folds of her clothes, of course, so Piper is none the wiser to her tricks.

I lower my gaze to the girl I was forced to call sister. If she thinks I didn't catch that, she must have a serious case of the mind worms. Eh... more serious than usual, of course. "If you try that again, the best you could hope for is a quick death by disembowelment," I warn her.

The hatred that's locked between our shared scowls could have erupted into something worse if Piper hadn't stepped in.

"Stork!" she growls my name in a way that speaks volumes, but elaborates anyways. "Don't talk about your little sister that way!"

"Yeah, Stork," Olive says, standing behind Piper. Since the human's back is turned, she can smile nastily at me and let me catch a glimpse of her shining metal blade. She holds it up to her neck, jerking it to the side and pointing at me. The message is clear- _The next time we're alone, you're dead_. The very tip of the blade is wet with her own blood. "How could you?"

Insane little freak!

My face falls into a humorless sneer. "Whatever, Piper. You don't know her like I do." Whirling around, I charge through the waterfall again with a splash. Water hides the potent scent of the merlop, but not for long. Which is fine by me, of course. Assuming Finn doesn't croak, he'll be digesting it soon. Which is of course assuming a lot, but I'd rather eat the plant myself than let it be a target for every predator within miles. Damn Finn. He'd better be alive, or I'll revive him only long enough to torture him to death. Maybe. Actually I wouldn't- probably.

Olive's face looms up in front of mine. I flinch, so lost in thought I hadn't even noticed her sneaking up on me. "You just had a violent thought, didn't you?" she guesses, poking the tip of my twitching nose with one claw-tipped finger. The difference between savage merbs like her and merbs like me are mainly physical. They're more suited to combat. We're more suited to slow deaths by various poisons slipped into your drink at supper time. Oh yes. Very painful.

Excruciatingly slow.

"You thought it again!" she accuses me.

I smirk, not even trying to deny it. "Oh yes, Olivia Dogwood. I just was envisioning what your face might look like if I ran you through with your own spear."

She clenches onto my spear, matching my grin and pulling me close with a strength you wouldn't normally expect from such a small girl. "Better stop thinking and start acting, then," she warns me. "Thinking is for civilized merbs who are afraid to get cut."

A splash behind us signifies that Piper just came through the waterfall. Olive's smile is as sweet as the proverbial honey, all ready and set to trap flies. I can't believe Piper is falling for that bull. "Stork and I still haven't settled on a name for our first child yet," Olive sighs melodramatically. Piper cocks one eyebrow at her before checking her wristwatch.

"All right, Stork," she says. "We're wasting time standing around here. I'm pretty sure I know the way now so it'll take even less time going back than it did getting here."

"I'm not leading this freak back to the _Condor_ ," I say, setting my shoulders stubbornly. "Could you make it on your own while I watch her here?"

"What? Are you insane?"

"Eh. Couldn't tell you. I still haven't gotten the results back from my shrink yet."

"Stork. I am not going through this forest of death alone."

"Yeah!" Olive bounces over to my friend. Is it just me, or did a see a white flash of sunlight hitting metal? I stiffen, the hairs on the back of my neck rising at how close they are. Sure, the merlop was nearby, but... "How could you let Piper do this sort of thing alone?" There's a flash of metal. The dagger, I knew it! Growling, I pounce on the pair, shoving Piper to the side and pulling Olive's wrist as high as I can to expose the dagger in her hands. It's the old kind of weapon- no slot for a crystal to be inserted. Just an edge sharpened to perfection.

"Leave. The human. Alone."

Olive's small eyes narrow, her lips pressed together in a thin smile. "Old Ones show no mercy. You should know that, Stork."

And with a sound of a thousand trees shedding their leaves, the forest around us comes to life. I can only gape in shock, at how we're surrounded on all sides by the merbs of Terra Tenebria. My home for years. I recognize some of the faces around us, but that means nothing. I left the Terra. I brought strangers back with me. I'm not Stork anymore. I'm just fresh meat.

"More of us are following your purple girl back to the other intruders," Olive murmurs, under her breath. Starling? But I told her to stay hidden! Why would she try to go back to the _Condor_? Foolish, foolish human! "And now, I finally get the chance to finish what I started, little brother."

I push her away from me and she scampers back to join the circle of merbs around us. Piper and I stand with our backs to each other, her with her energy staff and me with nothing but the spear I killed the garaston with. And trust me, those things may be big but they're a pushover. One spear tip through their secret weak point on the back of their neck and boom! Strangers to this land don't know about that spot, which is what makes the garastons seem so invincible. Merbs know. And merbs are a lot harder to kill.

Especially the feral pygmies of Terra Tenebria.

"What- but... but they all look like children!" Piper says, holding her staff defensively. "You mean Olive is actually older than you?"

"I never said she was my younger sister," I mutter, my ears flat against my head. "You just kind of... I dunno.." I roll my shoulders, eyes wide and darting from one hostile face to the next. "Assumed that on your own."

She stands strong, but I can feel her quivering. When she speaks again, the shaking could be heard in her voice as she sees that we're in very real danger of losing our lives. "What do we do, Stork?"

"We could surrender," I say, musing that option. "Oh- no. Wait. They'd just eat us later. Well at least they feed us well a few days beforehand. That might not be so bad a way to die. And the butchering is clean and-"

"Any _other_ options?" Piper interrupts my rant.

I look around us. Primitive, savage little beasts. I used to be like them, once. I used to love it.

"Crystals," I say. "They still haven't grasped the concept of that yet."

Piper looks over her shoulder at me. The disbelief is heavy in her voice. "Stork, how did you ever leave this place?"

"Very, carefully. Now, attack!"

Piper and I leap from each other, our weapons held out. I go for Olive first, ramming her in the stomach with the butt of my spear and then whipping the other end up to smack her in the face. Whirling around, I slash open the throat of another merb I used to know. Not too far off I hear the sharp, electric buzzing sounds of energy shots being fired. Piper is going at it with all her strength, a red striker crystal equipped to her energy staff.

"Don't be afraid to kill them, Piper!" I shout at her even as I punch the tip of the spear into the ground, leap and whip out with my feet, gripping two pygmy merbs by the throat and tossing them aside. I swing along the staff and fall back to the ground, yanking the tip out of the earth as I did so. "They're worthless to us alive. You're doing the universe a favor."

She ignores me, content with stunning the little bastards with harmless energy blasts. The merbs are confused now- they're not like me, of course, so they've never seen what crystals could do. They probably think Piper is some sort of magical grand Pooh-Bah. But physical wounds have never scared the merbs of Terra Tenebria. Merlop grants them almost immortal status here, and they couldn't have chosen a better place to ambush dangerous intruders like Piper and Starling and me, if you consider me dangerous of course. The waterfall protecting the merlop is only a few yards away. Already I notice that I'm beginning to fight with people I had killed only moments before. And more. And more. Non-fighters must be among them, distributing the merlop among the fallen.

Three of them barrel into me from behind, holding my arms and my legs behind my back. I struggle with them, in a panic, wondering if they were going to kill me. Ugh, pygmy tactics. Overwhelm a bigger opponent, of course. The sunlight is blocked by a figure standing over me, and who else could it be but Olive, my darling sister. It makes sense that she'd get to be the one to kill me. I'm the one she needs for revenge, after all. A Snowfire- one of the clans that fought against her and ultimately wound up killing her.

Well. I guess this really is it.

The real end for Stork Snowfire.

And here was I thinking I'd die of skin cancer first.

Olive raises that dagger up high, the blood from that little nick in her throat not even dry yet. She was always so proud of that damn knife, the only true steel on the Terra. And she brings it down, the light from the sun flashing beautifully against the metal. And she slashes downwards, down across my neck stretched out like a chicken ready for slaughter.

An eruption of red light knocks her up and backwards, tumbling head over heels into the forest. Piper is there, slugging the three pygmies off my back better than any baseball player I'd ever seen. Prettier, too. She helps me up to my feet, and even though she's standing still I see red light everywhere. Glancing up, I hear the roar of engines and Aerrow is there on his skimmer, flying dangerously low, laying waste to all he sees. He converts to land mode, the wings folding into the sides of his skimmer and he charges towards us, scattering pygmies to every side and screeching to a halt directly next to us.

"The cavalry has arrived!" He shouts to me, grinning recklessly. Radarr squeals and chitters, waving at us. Then the Sky Knight slashes out with the energy blade at the returning merbs, sending a wave of red light that sent them flying like little green bowling pins.

Piper jumps up on the seat behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Aerrow!" she cries. "Thank God. Thank God."

"Starling said you guys might need some help," Aerrow says. "She said that she was attacked and thought you might be in danger too."

So Starling did leave the hiding place. I was never so glad to have my orders disobeyed. "Nice timing," I add. "But the energy from the crystals in skimmers attract wild beasts like crazy. You guys had better get back to Finn with this as soon as you can." Handing over the merlop, I step back from the skimmer.

Aerrow pulls a distraught face. "Three people can't fit on my skimmer. It's meant for speed, not carrying cargo."

I growl under my breath. "Exactly what part of ' _you guys'_ don't you understand? You and Piper will be leaving on the Skimmer of course. Watch it!" Leaping suddenly forward, I soar over the surprised heads of the two humans. Spear point forward, I impale a small merb who had been brave enough to approach the Sky Knight, seeking a surprise attack.

Radarr's eyes widen to approximately three times their normal size as I shake off the corpse from my spear. Aerrow stutters, "S-Stork- you just- I didn't know you- what?"

"Stork's been hiding his awesome fighting skills from us for some time, it seems," Piper spoke up, sending a few warning blasts into the jungle in case the merbs got stupid again.

I snort. "Awesome fighting skills? Exactly how awesome do you need to be to take down runty little merbs that look like children? I'm no warrior." I lean on my spear, shaking my head at their foolishness. "No, no, no. Certainly not. Now, fly above me and cause a little hell so I can run off on foot."

"On foot? Stork, you would never make it-"

"Aerrow..." my voice trails off into another growl. "Will you ever learn to listen to me? Get out of here, now! The monsters are probably on their way here!"

"Trust him." Piper speaks up in my defense, admiration for me apparent in her orange eyes. "I've seen what he can do in this environment."

Aerrow bites his lip. "...Be careful, Stork. We don't want to lose you."

"I'll probably be fine," I reassure him. "If I don't show up, it's because I'm being digested by a poisonous moth man. So don't worry."

The red head frowns deeply, putting his hands off of the skimmer's handlebars. "That isn't exactly what I want to-" before he can protest further, Piper reaches around his waist and revs up the engine herself, rocketing upward into the sky with Aerrow still hanging on his last words.

 _"!_ "

"See you at the _Condor_ , Stork!" she shouts when Aerrow gains control of the skimmer again, sending blasts of energy down into the forest at the merbs. Giving me time to escape. Turning tail, I duck low into the foliage and mold into the environment.

**OoOoOo**

Jeeeez, was this tunnel always so small? Gasping my way through the tight-fitting opening of the tunnel, I stand up and brush myself off. Though I'd had a few brushes with various unsavory monsters, I'm more than half-way back to the _Condor_ now thanks to my sharp sense of self-preservation. In fact, I think I can see her metal hull peaking above the canopy, but that might just be wishful thinking on my part.

Or I'm hallucinating, the first of a lengthy process of decomposition from the inside out, brought on by a rare flower that grows-

 _Shooop_!

I jerk, frozen into a position of shock, staring down in disbelief at the length of wood sprouting from my abdomen. Another hallucination... right? I sink to my knees, starting to feel the pain now as I grip at the shaft with both shaking hands. What a... what a vivid hallucination. Because this can't be real. It's impossible.

"This is only what you deserve, Snowfire."

I'm Stork. I'm _Stork_. Olive's condescending voice floats over me. Hand over hand, she slinks down the vines of a nearby tree, crawling towards me on all fours, the shadows of the canopy only letting in a few dappled shots of light on her mottled skin, just enough to have her yellow eyes reflect the light as she reaches me, kneels over me, with her hands on my back. Somehow I find that I'm on all fours. How did that happen?

I pull at the spear but that sends shockwaves of pain through me so I lie down on my side, curled around it in fetal position, thinking if I just stay still the pain will go away.

She slides out that blasted knife again. With her little fingers, she lifts up my chin to force me to look at her. Tough like the rest of her, her lips catch mine, pulling free with a wet suck.

" _No one kills me and gets away with it_."

Sitting down next to me, she rummages around in her clothes before pulling out that potent, purple bloom. Merlop. She lays it, just out of my reach, one hand caressing the small of my back as she watches me struggle to live. My eyes lock on the plant, fingers feebly grasping for it. She kicks it away and I try to crawl after it, but then she kicks me, the spear shifting around with me like a single solitary spine on a porcupine.

A flash of white.

That knife.

I close my eyes.

And I black out.


	5. WHAtHIGO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's true, we're all a little insane."

**Finn**

"Junko!"

"Eek~! Piper! I'm, uh, I was just-"

"What did I tell you? Let Finn sleep and help us look for Stork already!"

"I'm sorry, Piper, it's just, no one's looking after Finn…"

I open my eyes, curious to know what's going on. Piper stands in the doorway of my room, her orange eyes blazing with an expression I know all too well. It's actually kinda cool to have someone else on the receiving end of Piper's death glare. It's Junko today, sitting beside my bed on a three legged stool, his hands pressed flat on his lap. Poor Junko, he's not used to Piper being on his case. Deciding someone needed to defend the poor guy, I sit up and yawn. I stretch my arms high above my head, my eyes closed in another belly yawn.

"Aw c'mon, Piper," I mumble. "Give him a break. And how come I'm so dry? Weren't we swimming? And.." I stare at her, my eyes narrowing in confusion. I look from her to Junko and her again, trying to make sense of what happened. "Junko, you… and Piper… and even Aerrow…"

It all seems so foggy now. But I'm sure of what I saw-

I saw them all die. I could have sworn it.

We were flying above Terra Tropica when suddenly there was some huge-ass storm. I was in the water looking upwards, and I saw that the cloud wasn't a cloud, but a swarm of sky rides. And everyone was there, even people who were supposed to be dead. The Dark Ace and Cyclonis, and Rebel Ducks and Absolute Zeroes and Third Degree Burners, Buff Buzzards, Screaming Queens- Everyone. And they all circled above the Terra, and then they all started to dive down like a flock of birds. One by one, they all hit the Terra and exploded and their wings and gears and stuff went flying everywhere, even splashing next to me in the water. Then I saw Piper and Stork and Junko and I tried to stop them but they crashed too. Every squadron that ever was, was flying up there and circling above the Terra with some of them breaking away from the group every so often to zoom down and crash.

Aerrow was the last to go.

I pause as I remember it, vividly. Like it wasn't a dream, but the reality.

" He fell like a shooting star," I mumble under my breath, gripping the sheets to my bed tightly. And he exploded like a dying star should. A supernova. The lights from his engine took over the inferno from the rest of the destroyed ships for a flash, and then all that was left was the whole Terra on fire, and I was just there, floating in the water. And I was all alone-

Except-

I saw a face reflected in the water. With red eyes. And I…

I look up at Piper, who's just staring at me, and I want to say so many things they don't even make sense. They crowd up in my head with this weird feeling, this shade of purple falling over everything. For some reason I want to say, _Please don't leave me. Please don't ever leave me._ I want to say, _Help me_. I want to say, _Piper, when did you start smoking again? I thought you quit!_ And I want to say, _We're the Storm Hawks. We're invincible!_ I want to say, _I want to go home_.

It's a horrible thing when you feel like you want to go home but you're already there.

Finally, she moves, running towards me. Maybe she didn't hear what I had said. Maybe she was going to slap me to try and get me to stop talking nonsense. But what she really did next, no one could have predicted.

"Finn!"

Now, trust me when I say I've seen Piper do strange things. I've seen her dance around the _Condor_ in her pajamas, muck through swamps for obscure crystals and even get a serious case of the mind worms (who knew they were real?). But Piper has like, never hugged me. Except for, ya know, now.

She unglues her arms from around my neck to hold up my hand, staring at it in disbelief. "Finn, you've completely healed. The merlop worked!"

"The bamboozwhafa? And can someone please tell me how you all survived the crash?"

She lets go of my arm and takes a few steps back, maybe remembering the Piper-Doesn't-Hug-Finn-Rule. She puts her hands on her hips in a classic lecture pose, her entire tone of voice changing to a more matter-of-fact monotone. "Three hours ago you suffered a compound fracture. It was so bad the bone pierced through the skin and ruptured a main artery in your arm. Starling showed up and told Stork to set a course for Terra Tenebria because of a plant named merlop which has astounding healing properties. We arrived here, acquired the plant, met Stork's evil older sister, and found out that the merb race are descended from a bunch of pygmy savages who like to kill things. As for your crash… I think humans weren't meant for merlop, 'cause you were saying some pretty crazy things for a while there." She pauses to take a breath, adding: "What you saw was probably a vivid hallucination."

"Wow." I sit back, comfortably propping myself against the headboard of the bed. "Thanks for making me more confused, Piper."

She snorts, smiling helplessly. "You're welcome."

Junko gets to his feet with a heavy sigh. The big guy looks out the window, scratching at his shaggy green hair with one callused hand. "She forgot the most important part," he says. "Stork and her got separated in the jungle."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Oh man, Stork is lost? How are you holding up?"

Maybe realizing that I can see how worried she is, she shrugs and tries to play it all cool and innocent. "Oh, I don't know," she says. "Something tells me Stork is better suited to this place than any of us."

Junko adds his two cents. "Stork's been kickin' butt."

I perk up at news of a another major Stork personality jump. All of us know by now how thinly coated his constant paranoia is. He's a jumble of nerves when things are calm but a surprisingly sturdy warrior when it looks like we really are going to die. Those are some of the few times I see him actually smile. I swear, he must get off on death and destruction or something.

"He's quite adapted to this environment," she says, rolling her shoulders. "So Stork is the least of my concerns right now."

Junko speaks up, blinking innocently. "But Piper, weren't you just-"

She stops him mid-sentence, grimacing. "Well!" she says loudly. "Since Finn is looking fine and dandy I'll just go back to the helm and…" she stepped backwards, away from us, so she doesn't see the figure standing in the doorway. "Get an escape route ready in case the merbs find out we're here." Turning around now, she runs headfirst into a chest I've been dying to sink my claws in ever since I first laid eyes on them.

"If the Merbs attack," Starling says, holding onto Piper's shoulders to keep her from jumping away. "We defend, simple as that. Running away is our last option, Piper."

As usual, Piper practically creams herself when the legendary Starling calls her by name. "Suh-St-Starling! Yeah! I mean… of course! I was just… you know- worst case scenario, fortune favors the well-prepared, and all, and if the merbs attack…"

The purple-haired Interceptor tilts her head, giving Piper a mildly confused glance. "Piper, the merbs are savages. They don't even have basic crystal technology. You'd be better off using your time checking the ships defense systems and crystal supplies."

Junko and I wince in sympathy for Piper. Ouch. Hearing your hero ripping your plans to shreds must not be a nice feeling. "Hey Starling?" I say, sitting up in my bed. Time to play the selfless hero (again!) and make room for Piper to skedaddle. "If you weren't really Starling but a robot replica of Starling, would you tell me?"

To her credit, she takes the question better than I would've. She ponders it as Piper excuses herself from the room to go be embarrassed somewhere else. Junko is close behind her, giving me a small wave as he exits. "Probably not," she admits after a moment. She glances downward, green eyes focusing on my arm. "I see you've made a full recovery. That's good. We'll need you if it does come down to fighting…"

I flex my fingers. Is it bad that I'm happy I might get to shoot something? "So why are we fighting merbs?" I ask instead of _Durrrr, when does I gets to blast some holes into someberdy, purdy lady?_ Which is pretty much all that's going through my head at the moment. Don't look at her chest, Finn. Or her itty bitty waist, blossoming outward into hips that sway with every step. Or that bit of milky white thigh she flashes with that Interceptor uniform. Ack! Knock it off, Finn- I mean, Me!

"I mean, uh…" I shake my head to rid myself of pervy thoughts. "Isn't Stork a merb?"

"Not all merbs are as good as Stork," she says to me, sitting down on the edge of my bed. All right! I'm distracted from what she's saying next, too busy thinking of how I can twist my words later to make it seem like she did more. Starling? Yeah I know her. I got her my bed once, pretended to be sick so she'd feel sorry for me. Yeah, that Starling, the sole survivor of the Interceptors. Yeah, the one who got through the impenetrable aerial defense system of Terra Bogaton.

I'm startled out of my daydream when I realize she's still talking. "…only ever been there once, and that was long ago. Let's just say the merbs from Thanatos are different from the merbs of Tenebria."

"Uh-huh," I say, nodding serious-like. "But, you know, I'm sure it's like with humans. You get all sorts of people within the majority." Pretty good response, if I do say so myself. It was genius considering I had no idea what she was babbling about. Starling seems pleased because she smiles at me and stands again, offering me her hand. I take it and get up, stumbling a little from that weird drug they gave me, but otherwise feeling just dandy. Was my arm really broken?

"If you're feeling up to it," she says, "They probably need you at the helm. I'll go out and look for Stork."

My lips twist in a smile. "Piper's been going crazy since he left, huh?"

"You have no idea. "

I left. She stays, probably because she doesn't want me to know how she gets in and out of the _Condor_ without alarming Stork's security system. Y'see, people think I don't notice things like that, like I'm stupid or something. But over the last two years I've definitely grown.

Damn shame, too. Being stupid rocks. People don't expect as much from you.

**OoOoOo**

When I find Aerrow (or his evil robot replica, because I'm still not so sure everyone didn't die) he's at the helm of the _Condor_ , standing where Stork usually stands at the controls. He's looking out through the front windows, the large glass giving me a view of a ruined city in the jungle. Talk about your fantasies coming to life. An ancient merbian city on a long-forgotten terra? This place must be loaded with all sorts of treasure.

I shift my attention back to Aerrow. He's brooding, as usual, Radarr in his arms and purring against his chest. Becoming the Dark Ace must come with an angry disposition pre-installed or something. Maybe it just comes with the job. Or maybe he's just having indigestion. That merlop stuff was pretty rough on my stomach, anyway.

"Ready for duty, _capitan_!" I say, grabbing his shoulders to leap up into the air, pushing him down playfully. "Now, judging by your look of surprise, I'm going to say Piper didn't tell you I'm- oh!"

He turns around and envelops his long arms around my shoulders, squeezing me to death- and squeezing Radarr between us, to boot. Radarr wheezes and I'm forced to exhale, my lungs compressed and my arm (the one that had broken) hurting like a mother. "Aaack!" I croak. Rule number two of the Don't Hug Finn Club: Aerrow does not hug Finn. "Aerrow…! Too… much… hug!"

"You're all right!" he says, sounding more like the old Aerrow for a happy moment. He lets me go, beaming like a kid at Christmas. I shove him away, clapping myself down as though he got me dusty. Radarr falls to the floor and starts twitching and groaning

"Psh'yeah," I say, rolling my eyes. "Dude, why is everyone freaking out? All I did was break my arm."

Aerrow glares at me, his happy-happy-joy-joy suddenly gone. He reprimands me better than Piper, one finger up and waving with every emphasized word.

"All you did? Your _bone_ was sticking out of your _arm_ , Finn!" Wave, wave, wave, with a jab to my chest for extra effect. Owtch. He pokes harder than Piper. "It was while we were in the middle of _nowhere_ , and you were _bleeding to death_!" His chest puffs out as he takes in a deep breath, thankfully done with his Piper impression. He lets out the air in a shuddering sigh, putting one gloved hand to his forehead.

Jeez, these guys all kill themselves and I'm the one who gets yelled at. How unfair is that? I thrust out my lower lip in a pout, crossing my arms. "Fine," I say, managing to control myself. If no one but me remembers the mass suicide, it isn't a very convincing counter-argument. A flash of purple catches my eye and I see Starling outside on her Slipwing, revving up the engine once before tearing out into the jungle. Aerrow turns around at the noise, his hands pressed flat against the glass.

"Starling went out to look for Stork," I say, glad to be the one explaining things for once. "I heard he's missing in action."

Aerrow nods, not looking at me. "We think… we think the garastons might have gotten him."

"Gary-who?"

Radarr squawks and points off in one direction. I stand next to him, my eyes peering past my dim reflection in the glass to see a lumpy yellow-brown hill. I shrug. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"The garastons," Aerrow says impatiently. "Junko took out a few that followed me back to the _Condor_."

Then my eyes pick out the details. That hill? Yeah, not a hill. It's a pile of limp bodies. Maybe four or five Gary-Stus or whatever they're called are piled up together, some of them with limbs ripped off and heads caved in. Holy crap- Junko did this? Junko isn't much for violence, so these guys must have done something pretty bad for him to go full wallop on them.

"Starling found this in one of their hands."

He hands me a scrap of tan and blue leather and I hold it in one clenched hand. It's the shoulder piece to Stork's uniform. "This is bad, dude."

"Tell me about it."

"No wonder Piper's been going nuts," I mutter. I'm feeling queasy, and it has nothing to do with the merlop. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Around an hour ago. Battling a horde of feral, pygmy merbs with nothing but a spear that can't equip crystals."

"We are talking about Stork, right?"

A new voice. "We were just getting ready to go out and look for him when you woke up." I turn around to see Piper standing in the entrance to the bridge, arms crossed and leaning against the door frame. She steps in and the automatic doors slam shut behind her.

"Whatever you guys are doing," I say, "Count me in. The Finn-meister'll get our wayward pilot back."

"I say we charge through this forest, guns blazing," Aerrow says, something scary in his face and tone of voice. "If we attract the garastons and the merbs- good. That means Stork can't possibly miss us."

Piper stares at him. "Aerrow, that's-"

"That's what _I'm_ talkin' about!" I finish for her, giving Aerrow a sky five that leaves my palm stinging.

He smirks, green eyes glimmering. "Now, Junko and Piper will stay behind to defend the _Condor_ in case more of those garastons show up while you, Starling and I scout for Stork."

"Hold up!" Piper raises her hands for silence, dark face angry. "Why can't I go along?"

"In case Stork isn't in any position to fly the ship, we'll need you to get the _Condor_ out of here at a moment's notice," Aerrow replies. "You're the only one of us- besides Stork- who can make this bird fly like she's supposed to." He gazes at her, face blank and unassuming. "Can you do that, Piper?"

The girl opens her mouth to say something but then stops, nodding her head and looking away.

"Good. I'm counting on you."

"Don't worry," I add, "I'll bring back your green man in one piece."

"He's not my green man," she says, stubborn as always. "He's our green man."

I leer at her. "Sure. And I'm the new Cyclonis."

**OoOoOo**

We split up. Starling had already gone off in one direction, promising to be back within the hour. Aerrow figured we might as well do the same, tearing off into the Terra at breakneck speed. Garastons (from what we've seen anyhow) are super slow and no match for our crystal-enhanced skimmers. Merbs here also couldn't tell a crystal from my hairy ass. Not that I have a hairy ass of course. Just a figure of speech, ya know.

Anyway, Stork told us to be all SOOPER CAREFUL and whatever, but this is a different situation than when we were in the Black Gorge. Back then we had nothing but Stork's paranoia to guide us, and none of our weapons or skimmers were working. Now these merbs had the full power of the Storm Hawks to reckon with.

Figuring lots of noise and ruckus is what Aerrow's plan entails, I jab a button right next to the altimeter on the dashboard of my skimmer. There's an electric whirring noise and the sides of my skimmer turn inside out to reveal two large speakers. Pressing another button on a small pad that also revealed itself with the pressing of the button, I decide to give my new sound system a test run in the jungles of Tenebria.

Heh. Try and ignore this.

Heavy rock music slams through the speakers, causing my skimmer to vibrate with the beat and the bass. I let out a holler but can't even hear myself think, much less scream. Instead I zoom along, singing with the screaming lead vocalist.

Piper hates it when I play this song!

I rev my engines a little, relishing that I can still hear them over the sounds of my music, and speed up. Every so often I can see the startled face of a garaston as I pass by him at light speed, probably faster than he can even register in his brain. Switching off the music for now, I press another button on my custom skimmer and a small hole opens up where a mic erects itself.

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION!" I call out, slipping on some goggles as I do so. I've been getting bugs and stuff in my face and I don't want to go blind by accident.

"CALLING ALL MERBS, I REPEAT: CALLING ALL MERBS! WE'RE REALLY PISSED WITH YOU FOR BEING NICE AT FIRST AND THEN TRYING TO MURDER OUR NAVIGATIONS EXPERT AND PILOT! BY THE WAY STORK, YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS ME TO LET YOU KNOW THAT IF YOU DIE, I'M GETTING ALL YOUR STUFF!" I pause to take a breath, glancing around me. I'd been heading in a straight path from the _Condor_ , so all I had to do was make an about-face if I ran into him or if I needed to get home in a hurry.

Where was he?

I'm a little shocked to find him right next to me.

I blink, my eyes suddenly taking in the larger picture. Stork is laid out over the side of a custom Switchblade in flight-mode, a man with white hair to make any grandpa proud piloting the craft. Stork is asleep- or dead, for all I know- because he would never willingly be trussed up the way he is. His wrists and ankles are bound together behind his back, making him look like a captive ready to be eaten by cannibalistic natives. You know, like you see in the movies.

The strange silver sky ride morphs, thumping down onto the uneven ground and making the transition from air to land mode effortlessly. Now I can get a better look at the pilot. Despite my first thoughts that he was some old-timer, I can see this guy can't be too much older than Stork. (Which is still way old, but not _grandpa_ old.) He looks familiar, somehow, but my every instinct tells me this guy is no long-lost friend. I hold my crossbow up in one hand, steering with the other.

"Gimme the merb or I'll blow your head off!" I threaten, aiming my sites directly between his eyes. I mean it, too. Aerrow isn't the only one capable of killin' someone when it gets down to the nitty gritty. Nevermind I've never killed a man in my life- I knew that if it came down to Stork or this bozo, the bozo was going down.

"Is that all?" he asks me over the roar of our engines. He smiles- and comes to a complete stop. For a moment there I had forgotten we were rushing over land at over eighty miles an hour- he shrinks into the distance and I curse at myself, making a suicide turn and rocketing back the way I had come. Ole Whitey has his engines started up again and roars off into the jungle. I crash through the foliage, following him with my teeth grit. He has Stork! I have to get him back!

I drop a booster crystal into the port of my skimmer, giving my baby some extra juice to catch up to the bozo. Aiming my crossbow I let loose a few warning shots. "Stork! Stork, if you can hear me, I'm comin' for ya, buddy!"

I don't hear a response. My heart thumps and I aim the sights at Whitey's tires. It'll send the both of them flying, but that's better than this where at any point, he could shift to air mode and I could lose Stork forever.

Piper would never forgive me.

Only one shot- that's all I need. Equipping the crossbow with a blue striker crystal, I slip into the zone and watch the bobbing target ahead of me, zig-zagging over rough, root-y muddy terrain. One shot- I pull the trigger and it hits home, exploding the rubber of his tire. He loses control but doesn't crash like I thought he would, managing to swerve past trees and rocks to come to a spinning halt, one foot on the ground as I make a screeching brake in front of him. His smiling face is in my sights once more.

"Give me back my pilot, old man," I say.

He smirks. "Oh, I'll give you more than that." With that, he easily lifts my lanky pilot with one hand and tosses him over to me like he weighs nothing. Stork comes to a crash in the mud near my feet, motionless. His right hand is covered in bandages and I'm not sure I want to know why- or why I see huge gashes up on the same arm, his sleeve ripped off. Had the garastons really gotten to him before this bozo? I hop off the skimmer, on one knee next to him while not tearing my eyes off of Whitey.

I place my fingers against his neck, afraid of what I might feel. No- afraid of what I won't feel. And what I feel is… nothing.

No pulse.

**OoOoOo**

The jungles of Terra Tenebria are far from silent. Creatures slither just out of sight within the green ocean of plant life; birds and monkeys compete for space in the canopy above. But all that fills my ears is the rush of my own blood, a sick, throbbing, aching, menacing, nauseating steady motion that would never grace Stork's still body again.

It might seem stupid, but even then it took me a moment to put two and two together. Like a snap, the kuh-chink of the gates being unlocked and the realization to flood in.

My head slowly turns upwards, away from Stork, to fix Whitey with my dead stare. Both hands grip my crossbow tightly, so tight I'm shaking from exertion.

"You k-killed him."

He smiles, sardonic.

I want to fall to the floor like a kid and pound the ground, screaming in rage. And then, another shock. Just then, looking into his albino pink eyes, I realize why he's so familiar to me. It's the man from my dream- and it all came true, didn't it? Stork is dead. Who could be next? Aerrow? Piper? Junko? Me? "What did you do to him?" I ask, tears running down my face. I level the crossbow at him, my hands steady… for now.

The man- that man who's face I saw reflected in the bloody ocean- doesn't say anything. The ground explodes near his feet. He doesn't flinch. I shoot again, this time letting the bolt scratch by his face- oh man- why can I still shoot so perfectly? Why aren't my hands shaking? Why can't I _kill_ him?

" _Answer me_!"

I've completely lost it.

" _Answer me or I swear to God I'll-!"_

He cuts me off with an angry shout. "I didn't do anything, as anyone who isn't mentally damaged could tell you!" Whitey gets off his skimmer, standing upright. "The merb is still alive, but missing half of his right hand." He rolls his eyes. "What kind of imbeciles are the Storm Hawks hiring these days?"

I sniffle, sharply inhaling so my nose won't run.

"…What?"

"You didn't press against the merb's artery," he explains to me with faux patience. "It's located in a different place from humans. I thought you knew that. It's here." He presses his own fingers up against the right spot on his neck, pink albino eyes watching my every move. Slowly, I reach to Stork's body, touching where Whitey indicated. A faint thrum rewards my endeavors and I'm torn between wanting to kick myself, wanting to kick Whitey, and wanting to kick Stork. God damn merbs with their god damn different anatomy!

I wipe roughly at my eyes before any stray tears can escape. Holy crap, though. He's alive! "Who are you?" I ask Whitey, still not sure if I should trust him or not. "And what do you want?"

He bows from the waist. "I won't tell you who I am yet. I can tell you who you are, though. You are highly incautious."

"Oh yeah?" I let loose another shot, this one cutting the straps of his energy blade. It had hung from his right hip; now it was on the jungle floor, far out of reach.

The stranger doesn't even blink. "Yeah."

He doesn't elaborate. Growling, I put a little more pressure on the trigger, readying for another shot. "Are you trying to be funny? If you're on our side, you're getting off on a real bad start."

"Oh? By saving your friend's life twice? By…" he reaches slowly into a compartment on the side of his skimmer and I let loose another shot. It neatly slams the lid shut and he has to jerk his fingers out of the way before they're snapped in half.

"…Killing your enemy?" he finishes, hand still reaching for the compartment.

"Dude, you are completely off your rocker." I reach into a compartment of my own, pulling out a small pocketknife. I cut through the ropes on Stork's wrist, hefting him up over the seat of my skimmer.

"I have three gifts for the Storm Hawks." He speaks, ignoring me. "The first is your pilot, alive and mainly whole. The second is your enemy…" he points to the compartment. "…And the third is my name, and a warning."

"I hate to break it to you dude, but that last part counts as, like, two different things." Hey, maybe I don't know details about Merbian anatomy, but at least I can count to _four_. And he said I was an imbecile.

"Trust me." Low... amused... familiar. The name almost on the edge of my tongue. That _voice_. "It doesn't."

Whitey shifts, moving so fast not even my eyes can track him. He's nothing but a white blur as he runs up to me like a lightning bolt, snatching his energy sword off the ground. It erupts into yellow flames that drowns out the sun and suddenly he's right there in front of me, so close I can see veins in his freakish pink eyes. The man from my dream knocks my crossbow out of my hands, sending it flying into the jungle. He holds his pulsing energy sword under my chin.

I freeze.

"Nova," he says.

And then Nova speaks; his voice fills my ears like a dream, like a prophecy brought on by merlop. "Tell your friend Aerrow that the Age of Heroes has ended because of him. Because of him, your idyllic world has collapsed into twilight. Light will fade, and the Age of Sorrows will dawn." He nicks my cheek in the same place I had shot past him with my energy bolts. "The ghosts that haunt you will live again. Everything you take for granted will be shattered."

Leaning forward, the tip of his sword pressed up against my chest, I can feel his breath against my ear. Nova's words are measured, lips moving slowly, deliberately, so that I can't miss the last part. He whispers into my ear.

" _Your. Star. Will. Die_."

I swallow nervously as he take a few steps back, sword still aiming for my chest.

"As for what happens after that…" he laughs. "Well, I suppose that's up to you, Finland."

With a jolt, a shockwave erupts from his sword tip, slamming into me with the force of an angry wallop. I'm thrown backwards, feeling what it's like to fly without a Skimmer. I smash into a tree, the wind completely knocked out of me. My skull cracks against the trunk- all I can see are stars erupting and blossoming in front of my eyes. My arm throbs in sudden pain, as though the broken bone is complaining that I'm mishandling it so soon after repairing it. I can't move, completely out of it and struggling just to stay awake.

He… he knows my real name…?

Nova points upwards, letting a jet of golden flame shoot up into the sky. "Your friends should see that," he says, throwing one leg over my skimmer. "Be sure to pass on my warning, Finland. If you listen to me, I will save you- all of you- from passing into oblivion."

With a whir of gears, he kicks Stork off my seat and flies off in my custom skimmer into the skies of Atmosia.

 _What… the hell… is wrong with this Terra?_ I want to ask, but I can only speak to no one, since no one is there to hear me. I look over to my side, to where Stork is lying curled up on the floor, his face pained and his limbs twitching like a dog having a nightmare.

_What… the hell… is going on?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **End of the "Terra Tenebria" Arc.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Beginning of "A Storm Is Brewing" Arc.**


	6. Proverbial Straw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is weird."  
> "It's weird."  
> "Very weird."  
> "Fucking weird."  
> 

**Piper.**

"Did you see that?"

"…Looked like some sort of flare."

I bite my nails, wondering, but unable to voice my fears at the sparkling, golden column that had erupted out of the jungle canopy. "That's not our team's flare," I say instead. It's safe to state the obvious. There's no danger in it, there's even a sense of reassurance.

"Yeah, ours is blue." Junko has his face pressed up against the glass, maybe hoping to see another flash of light. "Maybe it's someone else? Oh, but, there's no one else out there…"

My heart skips a few beats. "Starling's out there," I whisper, various scenarios of death and destruction going through my mind.

"But, her flare's purple."

That's true enough. My pulse pounding in my ears, I press a button on our communicator. " _Condor_ to Finn. Do you copy, Finn, over?"

Empty static. My fears mounting, I try again. "Wingman, do you copy, over?"

A voice crackles through the static, but it's not Finn's familiar nasal whine. A man's rumble floats around the _Condor_ with eerie cadence, every word more like lines to a song than the dire warning that it actually presented. "Your wingman is currently incapacitated."

The connection shuts down with the force of a slap to the face.

Panicking, I jab the button again. " _Condor_ to Aerrow, Captain do you copy, over?"

"I read ya loud and clear, _Condor_. What's up, over?"

"Did you see a gold colored flare light up a few minutes ago?" I'm so anxious I forget to say _over_.

"Yep. Headed there as we speak. Starling has a head start on me, but I can't get into contact with her, over."

"Go full speed, Aerrow. Finn and Stork are there, probably wounded." As an unpleasant afterthought, I add: "It might be a trap, though. Show caution. Over."

"Roger that. Over and out."

I slowly let go of the mic, the connection dead. My fingers find their way to my lips again; my teeth gnaw on the flesh around the nails since I've already chipped the actual nails down to the quick.

 _Please come back soon._ I pray to Aerrow, because I don't believe in God. _Please, please, bring them back safe._

**OoOoOo**

**Starling**

The engines hum silently like the purr of jungle cats. My Slipwing is built for speed and stealth, with a custom engine that runs like a ghost and makes no sound. Vines snap as I run through them and branches crack underneath the wheels, but trust me when I say that no ears will ever detect me because they hear the tell-tale roar of a skimmer engine.

I'm breaking away from my search, following a flare and a gut instinct. I never had a real plan to begin with, so there's no harm in this. Speeding up, I reach my destination in no time… stumble upon the scene of the crime, just like last time.

Just like I always do.

My hands grip the handlebars of my skimmer tightly, nauseous at what I see: Stork curled up on the jungle floor. He twitches every so often, gripping at his stomach and muttering things so soft not even my ears can detect them. His face is contorted in pain or fear. On the corner of his mouth I can see a single purple petal.

Merlop. So Stork is still alive.

Finn is propped up against a tree trunk. Dried blood mats his blond hair against his head, a thin brown line showing that it had once been trickling down his face. His head is lolled to the side and his electric blue eyes- closed. Fear automatically assumes he's dead, but I'm trained well enough to notice the rise and fall of his chest.

So Finn is still alive too.

Lethargically, his eyelids open to focus on me and then close again. With realization hitting him like a thunderbolt his eyes snap open again and he struggles to stand up, one hand against his head and the other out for balance. "Starling!" he says, "Thank God! We were stuck out here with a broken skimmer and damn Stork won't wake up to fix it-"

Finn, unfortunately, doesn't have the same military training that I have. He needs to learn how to get to the point. "What happened?" I ask, getting off the skimmer and walking over to him to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Finn. Don't hurt yourself. Just tell me everything you can."

He does, but after he describes the man and says the name "Nova" I blank out, my whole body encased in a cold, horrible chill. I start to speak- "Nova- Finn, Nova is-" but then I feel a hand on my shoulder- a cold hand.

I turn around to see who had touched me but no one is there, so I remain silent.

I know a warning when I feel one.

"…And he took off in my skimmer. That thing was customized, Starling. State of the art stereo and he just…" he throws his hands to the sky in exasperation, anger getting the better of him. "And he just stole it, just like that!"

The sudden movement throws him off balance. Nova really did a number on the boy- he has a lump the size of Atmosia on the back of his head. With my help, he manages to stand steady again and then, sluggish, points to Nova's Switchblade. "He said he had a gift for us," he says, slowly making his way to the vehicle. Contrary to what he had told me, the skimmer wasn't completely trashed. Only the back wheel is out, so if I could just get it into the air one of us could fly it back to the _Condor_.

Finn's voice breaks into my musing. He's wincing and limping over to the skimmer without my help, eyes trained on the silver craft. "Oh, God. My whole body hurts." Kicking open the side compartment to Nova's Switchblade, he pulls out a small bundle wrapped up in cloth. I'm so far away, lost in though and old unpleasant memories and he's so out of it, neither of us notice the dark, blotchy stains on the fabric.

"Smells kinda funny," he notes before unwrapping it.

His shriek of fright echoes through the jungle.

With another cry, he tosses it away, shivering and wiping his hands on the ground. A head rolls from the open fabric, yellow eyes opened permanently in shock. It's a brown female merb, one of the native pygmies judging by the child-like face.

Or maybe it's just a child.

Finn lets out a choked noise. "O-Olive," he says, one hand over his mouth and his eyes closed. He's turned away from the head, which is already attracting flies and ants. Morbidly, I let it go as just another part of life in the jungle. "Stork's sister. Don't ask how I know that, 'cause I don't even know how I know. I just… know." He pries his hands from his face, letting them fall to his side. He's biting his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed. "It's because of the merlop," he says, sounding almost bitter. "It showed me things. It showed me Nova's face before I ever even saw the guy."

I nod slowly, understanding his confusion. I had used merlop once myself, years ago, and knew its prophetic nature very well. I focus now on the girl, and wonder who she was. According to Nova, she was our enemy, but I'd never seen her before. My previous visit to Terra Tenebria only led to one meeting with a single merb- and that was fateful enough.

Its then that I hear the saddest sound ever to torment my ears.

I whip around to see Stork sitting upright, one hand pressing his right ear tightly against his head. The tip of it is missing- probably a wound inflicted after he had eaten the merlop, or else it wouldn't still be wet with blood. He's staring at Olive's head, eyes unfocused and confused. But the worst part aren't his injuries- the obvious misshapen quality of his hand, the torn fabric of his Storm Hawk uniform revealing a long scar on his belly- it's the expression on his face. His lips are slightly parted in smiling, helpless laughter.

But he's crying at the same time.

"That _stupid_ , _evil_ , v-vile little _bitch_ ," he says through the stream of tears, voice shuddering. He inhales sharply through his nose, sniffling to try and keep what little composure he had left.

And he closes his eyes to block out the gory trophy on the ground, head tilted upward.

Mourning- or celebrating- Olive's death in silence.

**OoOoOo**

**Two Days Later.**

**OoOoOo**

All together again.

The rumble of the _Condor's_ engine soothes me as she glides into the clouds, where she belongs. Piper stands at the wheel, her every ounce of being dedicated to not letting the ancient ship crash. Terra Tenebria is far behind us, swallowed up by the cloud coverage that kept it from mapmaker's eyes for time immemorial. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aerrow with a world map spread out on the table. Radarr's putting a rock on one of the edges of the map so that it doesn't roll back into itself, and his Sky Knight is silently marking out Terra Tenebria's location, although I hope to God that he and his crew will never have to return to the Terra of Death.

Stork sits at the table with an ice pack pressed against his torn ear, watching Piper steer his ship. He's too weak to pilot it himself but refused to return to his quarters in order to rest.

" _I generally sleep next to the controls anyway," he said stubbornly._

" _You've always been odd like that," I said with a small laugh, without thinking._

_Yellow eyes watched me, unblinking, gears turning. And I wished I hadn't said anything._

Junko is in the kitchen with Finn supervising to make sure he doesn't throw anything repulsive into Piper's sandcake recipe. Soft smells waft from the open door, promising a _Condor_ full of laughter and warmth. A way to try and shake the feeling of unease Tenebria always manages to create in crews. Eventually they'd get back into the swing of things, I knew, but for now…

I stand in the open door frame to the entrance of the bridge, watching them all. It's disheartening to see somber attitudes on faces I always associate with smiles and happiness. They're all too young to be like this. Maybe it's best if I leave them now. I… I'm not sure my presence will help them get over their brush with death.

Without a word of goodbye, I turn around and leave through the open door. It doesn't automatically close behind me, alerting them to my absence. The _Condor_ knows I want to leave- and she doesn't stop me. She never does.

My Slipwing isn't the only silent thing about me. I walk through the hallways of the carrier ship and find myself in the hangar, my feet not making a sound on the metal floors. I open the hangar door with the press of a button and feel the sudden rush of winds racing by the swiftly-moving ship. The clouds around us are dark with the promise of heavy rainfall.

I don't like to say good bye.

"You know, I've always wondered how you got in and out of here without alerting Stork's security system."

The Storm Hawks have the honor of being the group of people most likely to surprise me. It's not often that someone manages to sneak up on me. Turning around, I spot Piper trying to be cool with her arms crossed over her chest, smirking. She's leaning against the wall in a patch of shadows; waiting there for me. Well, that's a refreshing change. Piper trying to act cool is much more preferable than Piper trying to impress me, which always ends up with her saying/doing something embarrassing.

"Well, do be sure to let me know when you've figured it out, love." I smile at her, refusing to be caught without a comeback.

She stands up straight, letting her hands fall to her sides. "Well, I only have one piece of the puzzle: Somehow, you seem know more about the _Condor_ than any of us Storm Hawks." She pauses. "Except Stork, of course."

"Do I?"

"Yep."

"Well, I try. There's lots of additions here that weren't around in my day." I look around me, unconsciously searching for routes of escape. "So…" I turn my gaze back to her. "Who's piloting the ship?"

"I put it on auto-pilot when I saw you leave."

"When you saw me-?"

"I installed three security cameras in the bridge."

"…Very clever."

She blinks in shock, her orange eyes going wide. "R-really?" she says, a delighted smile lighting up her face before she squashes it, clearing her throat noisily. "I- I mean yeah. I know. Thanks." Getting serious again, she bridges the distance between us until she's just outside the range of comfort. "Still, why are you leaving all of a sudden? You only just came back."

That was easy enough to explain, even if I was only going to explain half of it. "I was on my way to another mission when I ran upon you all and your broken bone catastrophe. I have to leave for Terra Gale, and you're meeting with Repton in Terra Atmosia. Our schedules are conflicting, like they always do."

"You could still say good-bye." Piper's tangerine eyes soften visibly, reminding me of the girl she really is. Her tough facade chooses the strangest times to melt away. "I mean… it isn't that hard."

I cross my arms, looking out the open hangar door at the dense clouds grow increasingly darker and more foreboding. I don't like to say good bye. "Listen…"

"If you have to go, then-" she begins to turn away.

"No, listen to me." I grab her shoulder and pull her a little closer, just past the distance where it's considered appropriate to stand. "I need you to be careful. You and the Storm Hawks… I don't want what happened to me to happen to you. Protect each other, all right?"

I feel her bare shoulder heat up at my touch and let go, realizing I'm making her uncomfortable. She nods, confused but knowing that I'm being deadly serious. "Is there something you're not telling me?" she asks, too shrewd for her own good.

I shake my head. "…No. It's just…" A cold fleck of water shoots in from the open hangar door, landing on her cheek. It's beginning to rain. Gingerly wiping it away with the tip of my finger, my eyes flick over her face, remembering the past.

"…a storm is brewing. Be careful, Piper."

She looks up at me, complete trust in her eyes. "I will."

On impulse, I put my arms around her skinny shoulders and hug her briefly. Why is it that whenever I see this child, she makes me regret my never having children? Without another word I move to my skimmer, throwing one leg over the seat, starting her up without a sound, and blasting through the open hangar.

"Good bye, Starling!"

Miraculously, I can still hear her over the sounds of the wind and the lightning, the rain and the thunderclaps that make my ears ring. There's no carrier ship for the Interceptors anymore, no _Condor_ to return to when things get rough.

I don't like to say good bye. It's too… final.

With a sick feeling in my stomach, I ride the storm.

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

"Starling's gone."

Not even Junko could've pretended I wasn't glum as I returned to the bridge, even though at that point the only one left there was Stork. With the _Condor_ under my control again, I let out a loud sigh and shove my emotions aside, focusing only on the mission ahead. Even though we're still all shaken from Terra Tenebria, there's no way any of us are going to ask Repton if we could have another day to recuperate. None of us want to seem weak.

"Set a course for Terra Atmosia," Stork says from his spot on the floor, looking up at me from behind his curtain of green hair. His alien yellow eyes are cautious, trained on me. "We have some lizards to squash."

Night falls, and before I know it my shift is over. Aerrow takes the wheel for the next few hours while I retreat to my room, back and arms aching from standing up all day. But just as I get ready to collapse onto my bunk I hear a timid knock on my door. Groaning, I eye the bed, right there, waiting for me, before I slump over to the door and open it.

It's Stork. For no other sake than the fact that it's very unusual for Stork to come bother me, I feel myself becoming more alert. "Yeah, Stork?"

He's a bit more polite than usual, hands clasped behind his back. "May I come in? I have something I need to talk to you about."

I shrug and step aside, motioning for him to come on in. The door closes behind him and he faces the inside of my room, not turning to look at me from where I still stand at the side of the door frame. He clears his throat. "I uh... wanted to express my gratitude for helping me out back home."

Home. It's so odd, that word. I can't believe he just used it to describe Tenebria. Judging from the way he flinches and taps his mangled right hand against the back of his head, he's mentally berating himself for saying it too. "Are you kidding?" I say, walking around so that I could look him in the eye. "I didn't do anything. You could have died cause Aerrow and I left you behind. I should be apologizing, and you shouldn't be thanking me."

He looks at me. Then he smirks.

"What?" I ask.

"Eh- uhm- nothing. I just-" he glances away, once hand over his mouth to try and contain the giggles. "Didn't know you liked Power Rangers."

I glance down at my shirt. It's actually some of Junko's old pajamas- what can I say? I'm lazy when it comes to clothes shopping and Junko wears some darn comfy PJs. "If all you want to do is diss the Rangers get on out of here before I have to beat you up." I throw a mock punch at his shoulder and he actually flinches away a little bit.

Confused, he rubs the spot I almost touched and gives me that twisted smile of his. "You're weird," he pronounces. "Keep your germs off me, got it?"

I shrug. "You're the one who's barging in here at indecent times of the night. Honestly Stork, I thought you were a gentleman."

That makes him laugh- it's a low, dark thing, but I like it anyway for its rare sincerity. Giving me a sarcastic bow, he turns to leave and I get ready for bed again only to realize he'd paused just at the door frame. It sends off a few alarm bells in my mind- maybe let loose some winged creatures of inside my belly. "Something else on your mind, Stork?" I venture, fluffing up a pillow before holding it against my chest in a tight hug, gripping the fabric.

When he speaks, his voice is smoother than usual. Less jitters. Less paranoia. "I guess it's a warning," he murmurs. "Though it's probably groundless, if things continue the way they are, it'll make sense soon."

I clutch the pillow a little tighter. "...Yeah?"

"Death, my dear, is temporary. And you-" He leans against the door frame with one hand, resting his forehead against it. "You-" he sighs, frustrated. "You- don't take this the wrong way, Piper, but you remind me of Olive."

I freeze.

He looks at me over his shoulder, yellow eyes flat and dead. "In case you don't realize," he says, "That's a very bad thing."

And then he leaves.

**OoOoOo**

_Undefeated…_

_Youngest ever…_

_Red striker crystal…_

As invariably happens when we go to a crowded area, Aerrow draws a lot of attention to us. Men whisper, women gossip. Some of them see him as a hero, but a lot of them also see him as someone to avoid or suffer the consequences. After all, the title of Dark Ace carries a lot of weight for a lot of adults.

Some might even call it… cursed.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeyyyyy!"

All of us look up in surprise as a veritable horde of children and teenagers come stampeding up to us, paper and pens in their outstretches hands. "It's the Storm Hawks!" they say, squealing in delight. "The Storm Hawks are back! The Storm Hawks! Can we have your autographs?"

Finn takes the brunt of the assault even though most are there for Aerrow. He signs his name with a relish, shooting the older teen girls dashing smiles and winks every which way. He even scoops up a little boy and puts him on his shoulders, carrying him piggyback style through the crowd. Junko is more popular with the smaller ones because of his gentle nature. They hang off of his long limbs, perching on his shoulders and one daring toddler clutching onto his head, pulling on his thick green hair.

Of course, there's also always my following of crystal fanatics, coming to me with questions, gifts, theories, even a marriage proposal here and there. Girls are rare in the crystal field of science, and since I'm also a black belt in Sky Fu, and damn beautiful if I'm not being too bold by saying that. Thinking that. Whatever.

Generally though its a bunch of old geezer types heaping praise for my invention, the crystal scope. I'd recently patented my favorite tool, and let me tell you, the money that came from that could keep the _Condor_ afloat assuming we ever stop getting grants from the Sky Council for our good deeds, ridding the sky of pirates, saving the world from the Cyclonian Empire over and over again, etc. Just another day in the life of a teenage hero.

"Dark Ace!"

Aerrow is used to the title by now. He turns, recognizing that he's being called by an irritatingly familiar voice. A tall, red-faced man in clinking armor- the head of the volunteer city watch. He isn't a Sky Knight or anything, but he likes to pretend he's as valuable as one. "Sir Rent-A-Knight", we call him.

"Dark Ace, I demand an explanation at once."

Aerrow shoots me a smile over the man's shoulder his red eyebrows cocked up in expectation. I shrug, giving him the go-ahead. "Yeah… um… would you care to tell me what I'm supposed to be explaining, Gull?"

Each Terra has a leader besides their resident Sky Knight- governor, patriarch, matriarch, whatever the name the significance was the same, and each one reported to the Sky Council. This guy, though… god, I can't wait until he gets voted out next year.

"Earlier today, Raptors- Raptors!- came to the Terra, saying that they were meeting with your Storm Hawks! What madness led you to tell those warmongers to come to our peaceful Terra?"

"Well… Where are they now?"

"In prison, where they belong! Now will you please- Hey!"

Aerrow had begun to walk away from Gull, motioning for us to follow. Excusing ourselves from our respective groups, we break away from the throng to follow our leader like we always do. Through hell and back, good times and bad. We all know where we're going- the jail, to break out some of our worst enemies.

We reach the jail house in no time, shrugging past the sheriff like we own the place. Which, when you consider that the Storm Hawks consist of the strongest Wallop wrestler, the best crack-shot in Atmos, the leading crystal expert, a pilot without peer, and the Dark Ace himself… well, I guess we pretty much do run the town, whether they like us or not.

"You look good behind bars, Repton."

His tongue slithers out of his mouth. Yellow eyes fix us with looks that might kill if given proper time. "If the Raptors were not exiled to Terra Bogaton," he says, "I would..."

"Pfft." Finn swaggers up to the bars, blond eyebrows cocked up. "If Cyclonis couldn't do it, you really don't have a chance in hell." He blinks in surprise, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Oops! Excuse me! I meant: If Thyclonith couldn't do it-"

Spitz slams against the energy bars, powered by green containment crystals, hissing angrily. "Thay that to my fath, Thky Knight!" the lisping lizard challenged. "Thut down thethe barth and fight me like a lithard!"

"We only promised Terra Atmosia wouldn't shoot you down," I say, trying to keep the situation from getting any worse. Honestly, these boys! "Considering your history, Repton, you shouldn't have expected anything other than the reception you received."

"No matter," he says, averting his eyes. "My history is not what I came to discuss. I can see the power you have over these landlings, Dark Ace. Now more than ever. And…"

He closes his luminous yellow eyes, sucking in a deep breath. As though it pains him, he slowly grinds out.

"We… need… your…. a-assistance. Your… your help, would be most appreciated… by the Raptors. And if there is some… price…"

"Wait wait wait." Aerrow's eyebrows furrow. "You mean you called us all the way out here to ask us for our help?"

"Of courssse." his answer is clipped. Angry. "What would I gain by challenging you to a fight? The Raptors are weak in the twilight of the fall of Cyclonis, but we are not stupid. We recognize the balance of power has shifted to the Storm Hawks."

Junko, Aerrow, Finn and I give each other identical looks of confusion. Then Finn's face breaks into a grin. "Sweet," he says. "So, tell me, are there any hot Raptor babes who'd be willing to thank me for saving them from whatever calamity you guys- ouch!"

The palm of my hand stings from hitting him, but it's worth it. Rapidly adapting to this new situation, I turn to Repton. "Exactly what kind of help are you looking for, Repton? We're on the right side of the law, unlike Cyclonis. We won't help you conquer any Terra."

"Law is what we need." Repton paces his cell, his long muscular tail dragging behind him. "After the fall of Cyclonis, your lovely Sky Council banished the Raptors and all of our kind to Terra Bogaton. Trade is heavily regulated. Weapons are contraband. Under the guise of checking on us, ill-disguises sky pirates raid our houses and leave us with nothing but the dirt of their skimmers as they ride off, laughing at us."

"Uh, yeah, we know about that," Junko says, ears flapping uncomfortably. "I heard it stopped though."

"Old news, dude," Finn says.

Radarr nods from his perch on Aerrow's shoulder.

"And there's a name for that." Aerrow narrows his eyes. "It's called Karma. You might have heard of it."

"Terra Bogaton should not suffer because of my transgressions."

Now of all the shockers we've had in the past few days, I think _selfless Repton_ takes the cake.

"Do whatever you want to me, just..." Repton trails off into a low growl. "Bogaton was never prosperous, but things are dire as they are now. We need... justice."

I shake my head, utterly confused. Repton has never cared about anything but himself. "I don't understand. Why-?"

"They killed mother."

For the first time, I notice the fat one- Leugey- is sitting in his cell with his hands clasped together, notably subdued. The fat lizard sniffles audibly, his lumpy body quivering with unrestrained tears. Repton glares at his brother, powerful hands clenched tightly into fists. Finn, for once, doesn't have a wise crack. His tan face pales a bit and he steps back from the green bars, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"Sky Knights," he continues, not looking at anything but the floor. His voice is strangely dead. "She fought them off. They wanted to take her crystals and stuff. 'Cause. Ya know. It was contraband. So they killed her. And they took... everything."

"And that," Repton finishes for him, voice low, "Was the proverbial straw that broke my back. Kill the bastards who did this, Storm Hawks, and I'll reward you in any way I can. Or maybe... the only way I can."

He sends his level gaze at Aerrow, yellow eyes unblinking.

"I have a certain crystal in my possession that you might find valuable," he says. "Just do this one thing. Bring order back to Bogaton and I will give it to you- a crystal rarer than you'd ever hope to find." Jutting his snout further out between the bars, he grips one with his bare hand. The energy sizzles. "If that's not enough, you can even strike my head from my shoulders and give it to Starling as a gift, if you wish."

Aerrow meets his gaze.

And then he leaves.

"...We'll think about it."


	7. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Save yourself, cause the only thing that matters is that you get away from the pain, and the thought, of losing your mind."

**Aerrow**

"So what are we going to do?"

All eyes turn to me. Finn, deep blue like the waters of Tropica. Junko, smoky gray like the sky before a storm. Piper, closely guarded honey. And of course yellow-eyed Stork, glancing curiously at me over his shoulder, trying to be inconspicuous. I sit down at the planning table, resting my hands flat on the nicked and scarred surface where we had always fleshed out our ideas. My co-pilot, Radarr, crouches on the table with his large yellow eyes focused on me. I pat the creature's head, knowing I could always count on him.

We haven't sat down for a serious mission debriefing since the day before I killed the Dark Ace.

"This is more than just sabotaging a Cyclonian outpost or staking out smugglers." Piper, as always, sets down the foundation from which we work up from. I listen carefully to what she has to say as I stroke Radarr's scruffy blue fur. "This is politics. Heavy politics with lots of emotions involved. Technically, these... "enforcers"... aren't even doing anything wrong."

"Oh yes," Stork says, lovingly running his hands over the controls to the _Condor_. I can tell he's dying to get her back into the air, but for now the carrier ship is still dry-docked on Terra Atmosia and his right hand is mangled. "The abuse of power is always overlooked by the higher-ups, especially when the victims are of the same race of a single individual who happened to cause mayhem wherever he went. Yes, let's punish them all instead. Nothing wrong there, nope."

Piper frowns.

"When you put it that way, we really have no choice but to help 'em out." Finn surprises me by actually saying something that sounds logical. He's sprawled out on one of the chairs in the bridge, his crossbow on his lap as he takes it apart and oils the gears. Holding up an energy bolt close to his eye, he inspects it for dirt as he speaks. "I mean, isn't that, like, what being a Sky Knight is all about? Helping the weak?"

"Raptors aren't weak," Piper points out. "Physically, they're almost on par with wallops."

"Hey!"

Every head turns to Junko, who's blushing furiously. Getting up to his feet, he walks around the table a few times, visibly flustered. "That's not true," he says, scratching his nose horn. "A wallop could totally take out a raptor in a wrestling match. Totally."

I smile at him, my normally hard expression melting for my friend. "We know, Junko. But you have to admit, raptors like Repton are pretty tough."

"Yes. Raptors _like_ Repton, but not all raptors _are_ Repton." Stork throws his hands heaven ward as though giving up on us. The green-skinned pessimist sighs melodramatically. "Again with the stereotypes!"

Piper turns to him, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. She and Stork usually get along, but I'd been noticing some tension between the two lately. Ever since they got back from Tenebria, things have been... weird.

" Why are you even defending the raptors?" she says sharply. "You hate raptors! And let's just say it out loud-- the Raptors hold true to their stereotypes."

His left eyelid twitches as he sneers, looking almost sickened. "My love for being the Devil's Advocate outweighs my natural hatred for the Raptors. Please excuse my momentary lapse." His eyelid jumps again in a nervous tic that all of us have now long realized is associated with thoughts of violence floating through his head.

A silence follows that whirlwind of dizzy, sharp comments. Radarr looks from Stork to Piper and back again, gnawing on one of his claw tips.

Gently try to steer the conversation back to the problem at hand, I say: "But, no matter what the race, when you take away all weapon crystals, that leaves a Terra vulnerable to attack. Raptor or not, the people of Terra Bogaton are being abused. We defeated Cyclonia in order to stop this sort of oppression, remember?"

Finn waves his dismantled crossbow in the air. "Hear hear!"

"So what we need to do now is go there-" I trail off, hoping that one of my crew picks up.

"-And see what kind of damage is being wrecked," Piper finishes.

Stork shrugs, visibly suppressing a sudden shiver. "Yes. For all we know, Repton's idea of "dire" means that the raptors aren't allowed to wantonly murder each other."

I nod, standing with a rolled-up map of Terra Bogaton in my hands. I hit the open palm of my other fist with it like a club, speaking with my Leader Voice. "We need to see if strictly regulating weapon control on Terra Bogaton is what they need."

"And Nova?"

Everyone looks at Junko in blank shock, even me. With this new problem at hand, all of us had completely forgotten about the strange, white-haired man who had saved Stork on Terra Tenebria. Clearing my throat uncertainly, I wring the map in my hands. Seeing what I'm doing to it, Piper nods her head at Radarr and he snatches it out of my hands, tossing it to her. "What about him?" I ask, fingers still grasping for something to twist. "He disappeared into the sunset without a trace."

Junko shrugs, rocking back on the balls of his feet. "I dunno. I just.. it felt like maybe we should be a li'l more worried about the guy? I mean, he seems pretty strong... and stuff." He finishes with a noted, embarrassed laugh. Then he sighs, eyes downcast. "Oh, all right. Forget I said anything..."

"No, no." I shake my head. "You're right. But what do you think we should do about it?"

His large eyes grow larger, partially hidden by his long, thick green hair. "M-me?"

"Yes. You. What do you think, Junko?"

"We-e-ell..." he trails off, scratching at his nose horn again. "I guess we could split up into two groups, since all we're gonna do in Bogaton right now is watch 'em for trouble, right?"

"In a nutshell," Piper says, sounding off-put that her plan had been so easily simplified. "But who goes in which team?"

Finn shoots to his feet, suddenly invigorated. "I'm going on the team after Nova!" he says, blue eyes blazing. "The bastard stole my customized skimmer!"

Piper scoffs, thrusting one hip out and looking Finn up and down with a look of amused distaste. "You mean that ghetto-fabulous heap of speakers and bad music?" she asks, not even reprimanding him for cursing, which she generally keeps a tight ship about.

"All right, Piper," I say, stepping between the two before things can get any rougher. "You go ahead with Finn and Stork on the _Condor_ to follow whatever trail Nova might have left behind. Me and Junko will stay behind on our skimmers to attract less attention to the fact that Terra Bogaton is being watched. Junko, you don't mind staying with me, do you? I'm going to need your muscle." Junko shakes his head no and I clap him on the shoulder, grinning at him.

"Gre-e-at," Stork murmurs from his corner of the _Condor_. The merb wrings his hands together like kitchen towels, sighing loudly. "I get to go with the team running all over the place. Lovely."

"Stop complaining, dude! We're going on the interesting mission!"

Stork's eyelid simply twitches as he stares in disbelief at Finn. His throaty hiss runs throughout the _Condor_. "...Right."

"Piper..." I turn to my navigations expert, noticing her silence. She was probably bummed to get saddled with Finn, but I was putting him there for logistics reasons. Each team needed its share of fighters, and Stork was pretty much a no go unless he was swinging through the vines on Tenebria. "I'm only asking you to go with the other team because you're my second in command. I want you there to take charge if things get rough, all right? It's not some sort of punishment."

Piper smiles weakly. "I know. I just..." she eyes Finn, who's still jumping around the bridge like a mad man. "...Really don't want to be with him.

I bite my lower lip, feeling suddenly guilty for dumping Finn on her. "You want to be alone with Stork?" I venture, reaching out to put my gloved hand in her mess of midnight blue hair. I ruffle it fondly. Automatically she goes on the defensive, her shoulders tensing up as she looks up at me with suspicion.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she says, stepping away from me.

Mentally, I rewind what I had just said. Did she think I was trying to insinuate something? Or did I offend her somehow? Confused, I scratch the back of my neck in awkward silence, wishing for the umpteenth time that Piper wasn't such a… you know… girl!

"I mean, if you really think Finn will interfere with the mission, I could always take him with me," I try to explain myself. "But I tried to distribute it so that each team has enough fighters. You're capable of protecting yourself, but Stork…" I eye the gangly pilot.

"Remember how well he handled himself in Terra Tenebria?" she reminds me, her tangerine eyes shining at the memory. "You saw him fighting those other merbs. He was fantastic."

"All right." I assent, my hands up in a gesture of peace. I love Piper like a little sister. Maybe when we were younger I might have been rough on her, but now I realize how invaluable she is to us as a team. Without her, we'd all crumble. So I try to indulge her every once in a while. Ok, more than once in a while. OK, I like to do what she says, is that such a crime?

"Finn?" I say louder, bursting his little bubble of happiness. "Forget it. You're coming with me and Junko to Terra Bogaton."

**OoOoOo**

**Repton.**

"Looks like they're finally letting us out, Boss. Duh-hah," Leugey smiles like the simpleton he is as he looks up at me, large yellow eyes hopeful for some sort of praise. None is forthcoming. Sitting in my cell, my tail swipes back and forth in the dust. I rest my chin in one palm, letting my eyes trail over the prison guard.

"I suppose the Dark Ace gave you orders to set me free?" I ask the human man, my gaze so intense I forget to blink. Unconsciously, my tongue flickers out over my eyeball to moisten it. Ah.. nasty habit. I'd been trying to break it. Blinking a few times, I turn my gaze away and stand up to my full height, towering over him. "Well then. I'd better take advantage of this gift."

Without a word, he hands us our weapons and the meager equipment we'd been carrying when they had detained us. I buckle my boomerang where it belongs- at my side- and stride out into the sunlight, ignoring the sullen glares and angry whispers that follow me and my brothers. The Raptors are not welcome here in Terra Atmosia.

There are those who still have memories of when we came with fire and steel.

I'm one of them. And it makes me smile every time.

"Where do you think our Bone Wingth are, Both?" Spitz asks me, hovering around my elbow. My smile drops at the lisping lizard. He's young, and not used to being so outnumbered by Atmosians. "Think they thtole them or thumthing?"

"Hrrrn." I let out my breath in something that sounds halfway between a rumbling growl and a defeated sigh. "In all likelihood they're with the Dark Ace and his Storm Hawks. If he's as much of a Sky Knight as he proclaims to be, he'll protect them from petty thieves."

That much should have been obvious. Honestly, sometimes I really do wonder if we came from the same nest. Mother always said so, and even if she was the meanest, scariest old hag I'd ever set eyes on she'd never lie to me without a reason. To lie to me about these three bumbling idiots though... it'd have to be a hell of a reason.

Spitz, Leugey, and Hoerk follow me through the streets to the docks, where carrier ships of all sizes and shapes float aimlessly, waiting for their squadrons and merchant owners to return to them. My eyes glimmer for a moment at the hordes of treasure that might lay inside them- treasure that would bring my home Terra Bogaton to prosperity, not to mention more than a little respect for me.

But then my sand-scoured heart in its glorious, shriveled state turns stone cold again as I realize that any riches for Terra Bogaton would just be taken away again by the so-called Enforcers who circled our skies. The vultures appeared not too long after the fall of Cyclonia and the banning of my kind to Terra Bogaton. Under the guise of protecting everyone else from us, they strictly regulated weapons and crystals. Then, not content with crippling us, they decided to starve us as well.

"Sssssssssssky Knights," I hiss under my breath. "I'd destroy them all if I could. Two faced, lying, sneaking cowards."

"That's sweet of you to say."

My head snaps to locate the source of the voice- there. It's the female Storm Hawk, energy staff in hand. With it, she point off to the covered docks where most Sky Knights stored their vehicles. "Your Bone Wings are over there," she says, no room for argument in her tone of voice. How irritating- I hate it when human women think they can act tough. "You're going to lead Aerrow and the others to Terra Bogaton."

My tongue flickers out in contemplation. Her face is hard, or at least as hard as a soft human face can be, and feisty. "I see." My lips jerk upwards. "Forgot the way already, have you? Part of our problem now is because you destroyed our defense systems three years ago, you know."

My eyes can sense heat, and right now it's flooding to her face. She fights it well, though, and turns her back on me to board the _Condor_. I forgot her name already… The only Storm Hawk I ever truly bothered myself with was Aerrow. Perhaps she would prove herself to be more interesting than the selfless hero he always played himself out to be. Or perhaps she'd be like all the other 'tough' women I'd ever known- easy to break, ready to tame.

In any case…

"Come along, boys," I say, nodding my head to the hangar. "It's time to fly."


	8. Obession and Compulsion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything. Pretty soon she'll figure out, you can never get him out of your head."

**Omniscient.**

"Terra Bogaton…"

Aerrow glanced over at Repton, who had his softly-purring Bone Wing parked next to his Skimmer. Aerrow revved his Skimmer a little, the silence of Bogaton getting under his skin. The last time he had been there, he hadn't realized there was more to the Terra than just Repton's stronghold. Small villages permeated the dry, scrubby landscape, and it was in one of these that they had decided to first stop.

"Where're all the people?" Junko pondered out loud, his grey eyes wide to show the innocence of his question. The village was completely deserted. He hopped off his heavy, metal-plated Skimmer and casually walked further in. "Is this like a ghost town or something?"

"Yes," Repton answered, his tail rhythmically swishing from side to side, his tongue flickering out in agitation. "You'll find no raptor cities or towns any longer, Sky Knight. The smart ones have all gone into hiding."

Junko chuckled, waving Repton away like an abashed maiden. If he noticed the somber attitude that permeated the very air around the Raptor, he might have kept his mouth shut. "I'm no Sky Knight! I'm just-"

"All the rest are dead," Repton finished without a flourish, or a dramatic low pitch. He simply stated the facts. Leugey, Spitz, and Hoerk were gathered behind their leader and brother, gripping the handlebars of their Bone Wings tightly. While Repton was coolly uncaring, they made no attempt to hide their fear, indignation, and resentment towards the Sky Knights.

There was a click as Finn undid the safety on his crossbow. Repton snorted at that, crawling forward at a snail's pace on his machine. The rest of them followed, listening as he spoke. "You've nothing to fear, Sky Knight. The Interceptors aren't likely to put you down."

"Hey man, I'm not a Sky Knight ei-" Finn started, but Aerrow cut him off. Putting on a small burst of speed until he was cruising alongside the raptor, he fixed the taller humanoid with an unreadable glare.

"What did you say?" he asked. "What did you say their name was?"

Repton's mouth curled up in a smile. "You mean you didn't know the Interceptors have been re-formed? Much like your beloved Storm Hawks, a group of punks figured they had the right to take on the name."

"But there's still an Interceptor!" Junko protested from his position at the rear of the pack, protecting their backs. "Starling-"

"Don't make me laugh," Repton said, shaking his head with amusement. "One person can't make a squadron. Starling is a ghost. When the sun hits her she'll fade away like the rest of her friends did, fifteen years ago."

Without warning, Aerrow swerved his Skimmer to the side and blocked Repton's way, scarred face grim. "Let's set down a few rules if we're going to be working together, Repton," he said. "We're going to meet each other half-way in this. I treat you like you treat me, understand? Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"

"Don't be so touchy," Repton said.

"He wouldn't have to if you weren't such a dick," Finn snapped.

Repton's long tongue flickered out, but he said nothing. Spitz was more than happy to take up the gauntlet in defense of his brother, though. He revved his motors loudly, hissing at the blond . "Oooh, I'm tho thowwy, the widdle baby can't handle tough talk? We hurtin' yo' _feeeeeelingths_ , Thky Knight?"

Finn bristled. "No, I'm just not gonna stand here and let you talk shit, raptor. We're helping you. Show us some respect."

"I'll show you respect," Hoerk rumbled, his muscles bulging in preparation for a brawl.

Repton finally snapped "Oh, shut up, all of you!" he said, irritated. "Grow some brains already."

"Yeah!" Junko set his face into a firm frown of disapproval. "Finn, you've got to behave yourself, too, you know. Repton is our friend now, and friends don't act like this."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to shoot him incredulous glares of anger.

"We are _not_ friends," Aerrow said.

Repton said nothing, merely steering around the Sky Knight to lead the pack once more.

"We have a truthe," Spitz said. "Tho for now, we ain't enemieth, but we thchure ath hell ain't friendth, neither. The Raptorth need thum help on the right thide of the law, ya undastand? You chumpth have half of Atmothia under yer thumb. You do the math."

"Just talking to the Interceptors might be enough," Aerrow conceded.

"Somehow I doubt that," Repton said. "But I'll let you find that out for yourself, Dark Ace. And this…" He stopped, looking up at the walls of his former stronghold. Rage burned in him at this low point he had reached, but he refused to show it. "Is where we part ways for the moment. The Interceptors have taken up residence here. It was… available, after I fled the Terra when I saw things were getting too hot under our feet."

"We smuggle stuff back every now and then," Leugey said in what he hoped was a helpful tone. "You know, food and, like, crystals and food and stuff, and all the other raptors are always happy to see us, and they always has like-"

"Thchut yer pie hole, Leugey! Nobody athked you nothin'!"

"Duhh, but, ain't we supposed to tell 'em stuff so they can help us, bro?"

"We'll go to them," Aerrow said to Repton. The two of them ignored their squadrons behind them, concentrated on the mission ahead. "And even though I don't trust you, if we get into trouble I'll send a blue flare up. It'll be your decision whether to help us or not- but remember, we're your best hope for getting out of this mess."

Repton snorted derisively. "Raptors are not cowards," he said, "But I'm not stretching my neck out for you. I'm no Sky Knight."

"And that's what makes us so different." Letting his engine roar, Aerrow shot away from the cover of the dry forest and his two crew mates followed him, making as much ruckus as possible to let the Interceptors know they were coming. The raptors stayed behind, melding seamlessly into the foliage.

**OoOoOo**

"Piper, I think we need to talk."

Piper looked up from the Sky Knight roster, which listed every Sky Knight since the days of the original Rex Guardians. Though it was unlikely that she would find Nova's name among them, from what she had heard she knew he had official training. The way he had disarmed Finn was something no novice could do. Plus, she knew she had heard his name before, somewhere, but every book she poured through never revealed a Nova. If he was anyone important in contemporary history, he had long since been wiped off the books.

"Hmm?" she said, only half-listening to what Stork had to say.

"Do you like me?"

Her heart stopped for half a beat before she gave herself a good mental slap. Piper yawned. "Yeah," she said, stretching her arms high above her head. It was a weird time, she thought, for Stork to be feeling insecure about his place on the ship. "Sure you can get on my nerves with your paranoia, but I'd go crazy myself if you weren't around. Plus, there was that whole thing with the mind worms- I might have died if you weren't prepared for an infestation. So why do you ask? Something wrong?"

She glanced over at him, curious, but his back was turned. His one-hand (the left hand, the one not chewed in half) grip on the steering wheel loosened from its former tight clench, his tense shoulders relaxing somewhat.

"Ah…" he said quietly. "I see. That's good then."

Piper smiled, shaking her head at him in amusement. "You're so weird, Stork. But I guess that's what I like about you."

Stork's lips curled up in a bitter smile. "Well, of course. What do you expect from a half-breed freak?"

Her smile was wiped away. She blinked in shock. "Half-?"

"It's nothing," Stork said quickly, checking their course on the map he had pinned to the glass in front of him. "Just a… joke." His eyelid twitched, though she couldn't see it. "Anyway, in answer to your previous question, for a while now I've thought you harbored romantic feelings for me, Piper. And since hoarding your feelings inside is a sure fire route to self-destruction, I wanted to know for sure so that the air could be cleared."

Silence reigned supreme within the _Condor_. For a moment Stork thought all was at rest but then he realized Piper was silent not because the conversation was over but because she was in a state of shock. He flipped on the auto-pilot switch, his ears standing erect on his head as he turned to face her, his head tilted in confusion.

"Something wrong?" he asked the dumbstruck girl, unconsciously echoing her previous words.

Piper's mouth dropped open. "What?" she said.

"What, what?" Stork asked, honestly confused.

"You… you thought I…"

"Yeah?"

"You thought I liked you?"

"Well, yeah. What did you think I meant?"

"I thought you just wanted to know if I liked you. Not… like liked you."

"Well, do you?"

Piper went on the defensive, crossing her arms. "Do _you_?" she asked instead of answering, honey eyes narrowed.

"Aaaahh," Stork said, nodding wisely, eyes heavy-lidded and smiling in satisfaction. "I knew it." The merb shrugged and turned back to the controls, switching out of auto-pilot without further ado. "For several months now you've been acting strangely towards me. Didn't take me long to see it was a crush. That, or the Pelanian Snickerbobs." His eyelid twitched again. "So. Now that the air is all clear, let's decide what to do about this."

Piper threw her hands into the air, her face on fire. "About _what_?" She demanded.

"About your crush of course."

"I do not have a-"

Stork whirled around, his yellow eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Oh god," he said, anxiously rubbing the stumps on his right hand. "So you're saying it is the Pelanian Snickerbobs after all? I'm such a fool! We'll need to contact a heart surgeon immediately!" Rapidly setting the _Condor_ to auto-pilot once more, Stork scurried away from the steering wheel, headed towards the door.

"Wait, stop!" Piper lunged to her feet, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him back.

Not taking to kindly to this, he wriggled in her grasp, his green face twisted with worry. "Piper, what are you doing? It might already be too late to save you!"

"Don't be an idiot, Stork!" the girl snapped at him, angry from a mixture of embarrassment and shock. "I don't have the Peruvian-"

"Pelanian."

"Whatever. The Snickerbobs, I don't have them. I…" Taking a deep breath, she stuttered. "I do… have a… kind of… a little tiny crush… o- on you. I know it's stupid, but I do. I don't care that you're a merb, either, before you say that. It's- well, it's what makes you you." She hung her head, face aflame. She had been denying it for the longest time- obsessing over it, more like, but it had never taken such a direct form. The form of him confronting her about it. Since he didn't move or say anything, she hugged him to avoid looking at his face. This would be his opportunity to show if he reciprocated her sudden feelings- and he didn't take it. He quite purposefully put his arms at his sides, and kept them there.

Stork waited, angular face patient. Piper visibly deflated, letting him go. In despair at her situation, she had no idea what to say next. All she could do was wait for Stork to speak. When he did, he said something she never expected.

"…Mountain," he said.

She blinked. "Wha-?"

"MOUNTAIN!" he said again, lunging at the controls and bringing the _Condor_ up. Piper lost her footing, flying back into the walls of the ship as the bird's nose turned sharply up. The hull of the carrier ship screamed as it was grazed by the tip of the rocky outcropping, the entire frame of the bird shaking like crazy. Clutching onto anything that seemed stable, Piper closed her eyes as the tense seconds went by and then… they were free, soaring above the cloud line.

Stork flopped against the controls of the _Condor_ , leveled her out, and had her cruising again at a more normal speed. Then he started to groan, holding his injured hand against his chest, leaving a smear where the blood began to seep through the bandages. He'd reopened the wounds. Heart pounding in her ears, Piper slowly got to her feet and smoothed out her hair, picking up books and charts that had scattered about the bridge in their surprise encounter with yet another mountain. Always, always, always a mountain. Cyclonia might be gone but nooo, not the mountains.

"I'll…" Piper held her books to her chest, staring at Stork's hunched back. She couldn't see the injury. "…I'll go to my room now." She turned to leave, but another sudden lurch sent her flying once more. This time, the nose was pointed down.

She heard Stork speak, his voice faint. Pressing his injured hand against his chest, he gripped the steering wheel with the other. "No. I'm not done with you yet."

In a moment of panic she thought Stork was making another suicide turn to avoid some other natural disaster. She lost her books again, thinking _oh god I'm going to crash through the front glass_ when she was snatched out of the air by a green, prehensile foot. Even though the ship was completely vertical, Stork seemed quite at home, standing on the floor- which was now the wall- on only one foot as though gravity didn't hold sway over him. The _Condor_ was on auto-pilot, so his left hand was free to hold her face.

"You understand, Piper," he said softly, long fingers in her hair, his eyes gentle and tender and completely contrary to the words that were coming out of his mouth. "That you need to do your best not to like me anymore?"

Her heart was beating again, hard. Like drums. "Stork," she said hoarsely, mouth dry. "Stork, put the ship back to normal."

"Only when you promise me, Piper. Hate me, fear me, whatever. But don't love me. If you love me, that spells disaster for us both." His grip tightened, fingers tightening on her chin now. "All right?"

"Stork, we are going to crash if you don't put the bird the way she's supposed to be! Now let- me- _go_!" Stork forgot she was a master of Sky-Fu. With a complex move she had broken free of him and knocked him off his feet. Or rather, foot. He flipped in midair, landing on the glass of the _Condor_ window on all fours like a lizard, startlingly sinister yellow eyes looking up at her from behind a curtain of thick green hair. She clung to the controls, vertigo almost claiming her before she used her training to snap into focus. _Forget that you're upside down_ , she tried to tell herself. _Switch it around. Adapt._

"Piper!" he shouted at her, breaking her train of thought. "Now you've gone and done it. All you had to do was promise- is that really so hard?" he wriggled forward, trying to reach the controls.

Piper ignored him, eyes taking in the controls to the _Condor_. She found was she was looking for and jabbed the auto-pilot button, turning it off. Bracing herself against the glass, she yanked the controls down and whoop! Vertigo rushed through her as the _Condor_ righted itself, sending both her and Stork to the floor of the bridge. Her head cracked against the metal floor and even though she managed to stagger to her feet she still saw stars. She faced off with Stork- imagine that, facing off with Stork. How had such a seemingly innocent conversation turned into a battle? The only battle they'd ever had? The only time she had ever thought of Stork as "the enemy"?

She took him in, now, as she never had to before- looking for a weak spot, looking for his strong spots, keeping in mind that he had four grasping appendages while she had only two. Keeping in mind that she still had her red striker crystal hidden in her utility belt, and her energy staff as well. And only then did she notice the wound on his hand, weeping red blood.

"Why did you do that?" she said, shaking from head to foot even though she tried to tell herself not to. The sheer insanity of what was happening- the impossibility of it- was almost too much to handle. One thing she thought she could always count on was that Stork would be her friend- him, and all the other Storm Hawks. Even Finn. "Why did you do that?"

"To show you the severity of our situation."

"Show- what? You were the one who made it severe by almost crashing us into the Wastelands!"

He scoffed, blowing his green hair back for a moment before it flopped back over his eyes. "I would never do that to the _Condor_. She's under my complete and total control."

"You moron!" she said, shoving him backwards. He let her, stumbling backwards without fighting back. "Of all the crazy things you've ever done, I've overlooked them and embraced them because they were to keep me- and the rest of the Storm Hawks- safe. Safe. What was safe about what you just did? What possessed you to do that? That is so out of character for you!" she held herself because he would not, her eyes clenched tightly shut. "I was scared."

He blinked… and then smiled. "Good. Because now maybe you'll be a bit more paranoid like what's good for you. My father was murdered right before my eyes because he had an affair with a human woman, and that's only the tip of the iceberg. Your side of the spectrum has similar stories, you know. You know humans would hate you for it as well. Even if I'm not a real merb." He turned his bitter, sneering gaze upon the floor, muttering, "A half-savage, half..."

Perhaps realizing what he was saying, he nervously glanced back up at her, his ears falling flat against his head. "I'm here with the Storm Hawks for my own reasons," he said. "And I've never made that a secret. So, even though I never thought any sane human would ever get close enough to me for me to say this, I'm going to have to give you my first and only warning. Do not get attached to me, Piper. Because you will suffer from it."

He turned away from her, hands at his sides. "I'm just… not worth the risk."

"Stork-"

"You understand, don't you?" he asked, looking up at the sky now, gazing through the massive front glass window. It was still smudged from when he had landed on it earlier. "Sure, it might seem harsh to say so now," he kept on with his eyelid jumping. "When you probably don't even love me. But in order to keep us both safe, the problem needs to be nipped in the bud. You can't like me. Not in any way. Right?" He looked to her for confirmation. "You don't want to end up like Olive."

Piper, to say the least, was the most confused she'd been since the aftermath of "Lark's" not quite betrayal. The way she always did when her emotions were conflicting, she got bossy, putting her hands on her hips and trying not to seem like this radical behavior from her friend was driving her mad. "I think we're more likely to die by Peruvian Snickerbobs than get lynched because I have a crush on you." It was odd to say it like that. Just to say it- I have a crush.

His eyes grew wide, ears flittering between standing erect with horror or flattened against his skull in anger. "Oh really?" he said, holding himself again with a shudder. "Though that is true, it still remains a fact that any romantic relations between us would spell out disaster for the _Condor_ and everyone in it. It's inevitable… doom."

She tried to understand his logic. She really did. But the more she looked at it, the more it seemed like unresolved childhood issues taking the form of breaking apart their friendship in the here and now. "…Fine," she said, surprising herself. She held up her hands for peace. "Have it your way, for now. While we're waiting for our-" She made finger quotations. "'Inevitable doom'", though? We need to make some minor repairs to the _Condor_ cause of that nasty mountain just now. Set a course for the nearest garage."


	9. Discovery and Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can tell from the red in my eyes and the bruises on my thighs and the knots in my hair and the bathroom full of flies that I'm not all right at all-- There I go again! Pretending that I'll fall- Don't call the Doctors! Cause they've seen it all before, they'll say JUST! LET! HER! CRASH! AND! BURN! SHE'LL! LEARN! THE ATTENTION JUST ENCOURAGES HER! AH! _AHHHH!_ "  
> 

**Piper**

Retreating to my room after the fiasco on the bridge, I try to forget it all by diving into my books and crystals. And, obsessive freak that I am, it works. I lose myself in the words of others, historians and crystal experts, trying in vain to solve our mystery of Nova. I know I'd heard that name before, but no matter what I pored through no one named Nova anywhere in history showed his face.

No one… In _Atmosian_ history…

Setting aside my books, I plop myself in my bunk, staring up at my familiar ceiling, and begin to count the tiles to pass the time. Before long, I've fallen asleep, and it's only the jarring motion of hitting the ground that snaps me into alertness and lets me know we've arrived at the garage. Trying not to remember why we needed a garage in the first place, I make my way to the bridge, hoping against hope that Stork and I can try to act normally around each other again. But when I find him at the controls and put my hand on his shoulder, saying, "Let's go see what the damage is like," he jumps at my touch and shrinks away, hiding behind the other side of the steering wheel and staring at me with wide eyes.

"What what?" he says, long ears flattened against his skull and eyeballing me with suspicion.

Impatience creeps into my voice, fueled by embarrassment. "The _Condor_ , Stork. We need to see if we even need any repairs before we go wasting our money on a new paint job."

"…Oh," he says after a moment, relaxing somewhat though he kept his eyes on me, yellow and wary. "Right. Good. I thought you were about to spout off another love confession."

That irks me, but I try not to let it show, brushing past him towards the hangar. He follows at what he probably considers a safe distance, treating me like I have the plague or something before excusing himself to go check on the boiler room to see if there's any internal damage. Once outside, I inspect the outside of our bird, seeing a deep, jagged gash in her metal hull. The outcropping of rock had punched her deep- it would be best to get that wound closed off. I don't want any holes in my home.

"Oh yeah," Stork's voice echoes, and his long green face fills the space. He probes the hole with his fingers, sighing sadly. "The _Condor_ is hurt bad. Real bad."

"It won't take long to fix, will it?"

His left eye twitches. "Hmmm, well…" Yellow eyes swiveling from side to side in consideration. "I'd say five years."

I look up in shock. "What?"

He flashes a small, nervous smile. "Worst case scenario, of course. If we're lucky, it might take only three hours."

"Pfft." I make an irritated noise at him. "Anything else we need to stock up on while we're here?"

"Energy crystals are running low…"

"Are they really or are you just being paranoid?"

He gets offended at that, snorting and shooting his angry glance at the floor. "Humph. We need to restock on energy crystals," he repeated. "Even Aerrow mentioned it before he left."

"All right, all right." I hold up my hands for peace. "You win. Let's go."

"By _let's go_ I hope you mean ' _Stork, you stay here while I go_ '."

"No, I mean let's both of us go because I can't carry crates of crystals by myself!" My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "Don't be a baby wuss, Stork, c'mon."

"Nuh-uh," he says, shrinking further away from the hole, further inside the _Condor_. "What if you lose control and rape me?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake." Stork really isn't taking my little confession well. He's always been a little scared of… well, just about everything, but just when I thought I had broken through the barriers as his friend he had to go and make me admit I liked him. "If I wanted to rape you I'd have done it when we were alone."

His eyes go wide at that. "Oh.. That's… true, if not at all reassuring."

Grudgingly, his face disappears from the hole and I hear him walking away. Soon he exits the _Condor_ , looking like one going to his death. "You probably wouldn't know what to buy anyway," he mutters.

"May I remind you who's the crystal expert here?"

"May I remind you who's the pilot and ship-expert here?"

"You know what, I take it back. Stay in the _Condor_ \- I'll holler if I need your help."

"Pah!" He thrusts his chin upwards. "I already left- no point in going back now, and I don't want you poisoning my bird with faulty crystals."

"You know, most guys are happy when girls say they like them. You turn into a jerk."

"Thanks." The edges of his lips curl up as he begins to walk towards the shop and away from the docks where we're parked. "I'm trying my hardest."

Getting angrier by the second, I catch up with him and we enter the shop in sullen silence, standing next to each other but definitely not with each other. Damn it. I'm not used to being refused the things I want, and right now- crazy as it is- I want him. The truth is, everything that's weird about him are the things that I like, down to his three-fingered toes and cute little kitten nose and pessimistic attitude. The only thing is… we never fight like this. He's always been nice to me, when all the other guys were always overlooking me, underestimating me, or ridiculing me.

In trying to be closer to him, did I only push him so far away we can't even be friends anymore? Would I even want to stay on a _Condor_ that didn't have Stork as my friend? He walks to the counter, managing himself well though he keeps his distance from the bulky mechanic on the other side. Ship-related reasons are just about the only thing that gets Stork off the ship in the first place, and it can make him do crazy things sometimes.

He loves the _Condor_ more than me. Not that that's really surprising, but still. It's annoying.

"Just like I thought," he says to me, breaking my train of thought. He's glum, green face downcast. "Three hours of sitting around letting some stranger manhandle my ship."

"Well, we don't have to sit around." I nod my head towards the small town just a few minutes away from the repair shop's docks. "Let's go buy those crystals."

He throws a sullen glance at me. "Stop being so chirpy," he mutters.

"Stop being so gloomy," I say in response.

"Are we going to be like this all day?"

Exasperation. "You're the one who's acting like a jerk! I'm trying to forget anything ever happened, but it's pretty hard when you're acting like I'm a serial killer who targets stray kittens."

"Rather accurate description, that."

Exasperation squared. "Stork, I like you. You're going to have to accept that sooner or later, cause it's not going to stop overnight, if I ever stop at all."

"Are you pledging eternal love to me, now?" he asks, ears standing erect in shock. "Didn't I already tell you how dangerous that is?"

Exasperation squared times flustered young teenage emotions equals: Me. "Can we please go get the crystals?"

"…Fine. Fine."

We leave, carefully keeping our distance from each other.

**OoOoOo**

"…And five boomers, just to be on the safe side." I count out the money, handing it over. Stork gives me a funny look and I answer his unasked question. "Junko wants me to make a few more Turkey Burps. He's getting low on the ones with the extra crystal kick," I say when the lady behind the counter rushes off to get out our large order.

"Ah. I see." Glancing at a clock on the wall, Stork frowns. "We still have two whole hours left, if they're smart and don't rush the job."

"What's wrong? Eager to get going?" I lean against the counter, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face as I examine the clock for myself. "We still don't even know where to begin looking for this Nova guy, you know."

"I know. I'm just…" He frowns. "Eager to be back on my ship."

I don't respond, turning back to the lady who returns with… a small shopping bag. She hands the light cargo over to me, smiling hugely. "Thank you for your patronage," she says, waving goodbye, but I don't leave.

"I ordered- and paid- for a lot more than this," I remind her, just in case she somehow confused my order with someone else's. Which was pretty damn impossible considering I'm the only customer in at the moment.

"Oh, I know," she says, smiling, "But these crystals are enhanced- one of each works as though they're actually five!" She looks at a sample crystal on the counter with the eyes of one who's devoted their life to the craft. "Fascinating, aren't they? And a specialty to this area."

Curiosity piqued, I pull out a crystal from my own bag. It's a light topaz, with eight facets. A regular energy crystal. Thinking she was trying to hustle me, I pull out the Crystal Scope 2.0 (a much smaller and portable version of my old one) and flip it on, angling it over the crystal in my hand. Surprisingly, the meter skyrockets. Smiling smugly, the lady behind the counter tosses her crystal into the air and catches it in her other hand, awaiting the praise I wanted to heap upon her before realizing she might not have been the one to invent such an effective crystal.

"It's a specialty to this area, you said?" I ask her. "What sort of process does it undergo? I've never heard of anything like this before, and I'm one of the leading experts on crystals in Atmosia."

"Sorry!" she chirps, much to my annoyance. "Trade secret."

"But…" I frown. "This is technically impossible. Such a power level would express itself through the design and chemical makeup of the crystal itself, but this crystal looks completely normal! And my crystal scope never lies!"

"Piper, who cares?" Stork fidgets next to me, forgetting that he was scared of me long enough to tug at my sleeve. "I want to get back to the _Condor_. They might be mistreating her!"

Defeat. Sighing, I turn to leave, thanking the girl for the crystals.

"Hold on a second…" I stop in my tracks, looking over my shoulder at her, questioning. Stork is already out the door, bouncing impatiently and waiting for me to hurry up and leave. The girl looks from me to Stork. "You guys…"

"Yeah?"

"You're… you guys are the Storm Hawks! And you- you're Piper! You're like, my hero!"

I turn around fully, heat rushing to my face. A lot of people have expressed their admiration for my work, but something about her tone of voice is different. It reminds me of the first time I met Starling, my own hero. Suddenly feeling a kinship with this girl, my smile widens shyly. "Really?" I ask.

"Yeah!" She reaches under the counter and pulls out a Crystal Scope, though it looks rather clunky for some reason. "I even made my own Crystal Scope, just to see if I could."

Well. That's a first. I venture back into the store and we begin to chat about the technical aspect of crystals as well as the artistic one. Stork coughs loudly every so often and refuses to come back inside the store, instead hovering just outside the doorway, but I ignore him, happy to find another female crystal fanatic. It always seems like the only people interested in crystals were old geezer types and nerdy boys.

It doesn't take her long to reveal her trade secret. She whispers it into my ear, so close I can hear her heart beating nervously as she breaks the rules of her store. I nod, listening intently, and then pull away, growing excited. "Do you think I could go there too?" I ask.

"Well, sure. Not many people know about her, but we're definitely not the only ones. Strangers go up to the mountain all the time to get their crystals customized."

"This… is so awesome."

"I know! Isn't it?"

"I-"

"You wanna go now, don't'cha? She guesses, shrewdly smiling. Embarrassed, I nod over and over again to express my eagerness. "Well look, because you're like, my hero, I'll give you a copy of the map we have here." Our hands exchange the paper and I feel as though we're completing some sort of illegal activity. "Good luck, Piper."

"Thanks! It was great talking to you! Bye!"

"Bye!"

After that, I don't waste any time. Running out the doorway, I grab Stork's hand and drag him towards the garage. "Oh finally," he says, rolling his eyes. "We're going home."

"Yeah," I say, heart pounding, "But only to get my Heliscooter!"

"Wh-what?"

"We're going to those mountains, just outside town," I say, pointing to the light brown outcroppings in question.

"By we, I hope you mean-"

"C'mon Stork!" I stop, whirling around to face him fully, energized and pumped and ready for an exciting day. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I left it on the _Condor_. Why don't you go on ahead while I look for it?"

"You're not squirming your way out of this one, Stork! But if I have to convince you… let's just say this could help the _Condor_ in ways you can't even imagine."

And that's all it takes to get Stork on your side again. He hesitates for a moment, but I know I've already won him over. Running to my Heliscooter, I drive her out and honk my horn at him, patting the back of my seat impatiently. Dragging his feet even though his eyes are aimed at the mountain, brimming with curiosity, he sits down behind me and puts his arms around my waist.

We fly.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

Not exactly what I expected.

With Radarr clinging to my shoulder and my crew in a triangle formation behind me, I steer into what used to be Repton's fortress, the only large building in all of Bogaton. The Interceptors have redecorated some, adding a carpet to the floor and tapestries to the wall, but looming over them all is the infamous wall of shame. The shields and insignias of dozens of Sky Knight Squadrons that Repton had defeated over the years witness the going-ons of the mortals below them

They- The Interceptors- are apparently in the middle of target practice. A few brown sacks filled with straw are somehow glued to the far wall, buttons for eyes and lurid red paint for mouths, grinning like masochists at the barrage against them. All activity stops when my squadron enters, eyes suspiciously watching us, roving over our bodies, trying to calculate how much of a threat we could be. As usual when dealing with possible enemies, they all focus on Junko at first, fear flickering through their eyes as they realize that a male wallop could mean serious problems for them in the near future. But then as an afterthought they glance at our insignia.

And that's when they do a double take and lower their weapons uncertainly.

"The Storm Hawks-?"

"The Dark Ace- …The Dark Ace…!"

The exception to this rule is a single blond woman sprawled out in Repton's spike-adorned throne at the top of a small set of steps. She sits with her legs thrown over the arm, curled up in the massive seat, and doesn't move an inch or change her expression at all. On her hip is a long leather whip with a crystal end, a jagged purple-black one. All the while, from the moment we enter with our Skimmers roaring to the moment we slow down to a crawl before halting at the foot of her stolen throne, one edge of her lip stays up in a small smile and her right eye monitors our faces. Her left eye is covered by a thick brown leather patch, punched with metal studs around where her eye would have been if she hadn't lost it in battle.

She could have been extraordinarily beautiful if it weren't for the scars that covered every inch of exposed skin.

We wait, wait for the other to speak, to start whatever it is that they planned to do here.

She starts.

"So, you're the Storm Hawks, huh?" Getting up languorously, she stretches her arms high above her head, the bones in her back popping. "I always held out hope that you guys would come, but I never thought it would actually happen."

Flashing us a smile that chills my bones, I notice that all her teeth had been filed to small, sharp points. "I figured all your chivalry was just an act. And just when I think you're the real unfortunate deal…" She spreads her arms out wide as though to accept us, crush us against her breast in an embrace. "…well, here you are. Unless of course you're here to try and stop us."

Well, this was confusing. Holding my hand behind my back, clenched into a fist, I give Junko and Finn our signal to stand down. They relax somewhat, but keep their weapons ready. It all depends on me now- on me guessing the right thing to say.

I decide to tell her the truth. "We're here to observe," I say. Her single blazing blue eye watches me for deception. "We're still not sure whether what you're doing is for the best interest of Terra Bogaton and the Atmosian Republic or not."

Her grin widens at that. "Mighty eloquent and roundabout language for a punk."

I lower my chin, gripping the handlebars of my skimmer tighter. "I'm telling you like it is, Interceptor. We want to know what exactly is going on here, and I'm not going to make a judgment until I know all the information."

Scoffing, she turns her face aside, staring out the window so that her blind side is facing me. "Humph. And who says you have that kind of authority? That you have the right to judge us? That you can be the jury and the executioner?"

"That big old red striker crystal on his dagger, for one."

I look over my shoulder at Finn, glaring at him for silence, but he ignores my silent warning. Turning back to the woman who was undoubtedly the leader of the new Interceptors, I wait for a reaction. She's still looking out the window, long fingers pressed against her eye patch.

I wait.

She waits.

Once more, she starts it up again. Smiling fully at me with those disturbing teeth, she beckons us closer. "All right. There's no use in refusin' you now." She turns around, her arms in the air and head thrown back as though talking to God. "I already knew my operations couldn't be kept secret for long. The question now, though, is…" she whirls around to face me again, bent over forward, elbows bent and close to her body and palms upward in grasping claws. Her single blue eye was wide… but then she slowly relaxed into an upright position, her hands at her side and eye heavy lidded. "You… are you gonna be a hero and try to stop me? Stop _progress_?"

I step off my Ultra Skimmer, narrowing my eyes at her. The lady is obviously imbalanced, but if I do things right I can still manage to get through this without resorting to violence. "Why don't you calm down for a moment, Miss?"

"Yeah," Junko says, following my lead and shutting off his bike. "We're not here to start a fight, honest." Ever the voice of reason and a true example of peace, he smiles winningly at her. "Why don't we introduce ourselves so this'll go smooth-like, huh?"

Her reply is abrupt, and blunt. Hopping down from the top step that led to Repton's throne, she thrusts her hand towards me, her face dangerously close, expression neutral. "Kitten," she says.

"Me-ow," Finn murmurs behind me, soft so she doesn't hear him. I hope.

I shake her hand, even though it would probably be smarter not to touch her at all. "Aerrow," I say in response, heart beating fast. "But you probably already know that. This is Finn-" I nod to the wingman. Her attention turns sharply to him, looking him up and down with the same intensity she had given me. "And Junko is the wallop. Piper and Stork are out on another assignment, but that's us- the Storm Hawks."

"As a rule I generally don't like wallops. They're too honest." Her tone is smooth now, and even. She could have been a normal person talking about the weather, as if she hadn't just been swearing at me moments before. "But I'll try to keep an open mind for now, until you gimme reason to think otherwise. As for my part of the introductions…" She lets go of my hand so suddenly she might have been scalded by it. "That lumpy one over there is Laccoliths," she points to one of her crew mates, a hunchback who could have stood almost as tall as Junko if his back was straight. Corded, muscular arms were tense at his sides, hand brushing over a saber at his hip.

She pointed now to a handsome black man, thick braids hanging over his face. Green eyes watched us coolly, his chin up and his arms crossed in a defiant stance. "Jag is our mechanic and crystal expert. Goose, Finch, and Tigris aren't here right now, but they'll be back from patrol soon enough. And of course, there's me, Kitten. Sky Knight, Carrier Pilot, and leader."

She took a long bow when she was finished with her speech.

"Shall I assume for now that you're here to purchase one of my items, Aerrow?"

Now it was time to wing it… as if we weren't winging it already. I nodded, not trusting my voice, and Kitten smiles again with her sharp little teeth. She steps back once, twice, and then turns around completely, motioning behind her back for me to follow her. As she moves she claps her hands twice and the wall behind her stolen throne slides open with the sound of gears in need of oiling. I'm scared, but I follow her through the dark chasm anyway. If I pretend like I'm not scared, no one can tell the difference. Jag follows us at a distance, the beads in his braided hair clicking like music…

The place is dank and dark, an abandoned room that held a stockpile of crates containing Atmos-Knew-What. Mildew and cobwebs were rampant, and when Junko bent to enter the doorway and stood up straight once inside, he got a face full of spider webs. He sneezed once or twice, waving them away. Behind my back, I spread my hand out wide with my middle and ring finger pressed against my palm. _On guard. Defend if necessary._ Finn whistles once and Junko echoes him.

_Understood._

"So…" Kitten leads us to a wooden door and stands in front of it, looking over her shoulder with her missing eye as though she could actually watch us with it. "If you're here to make a purchase, what're you lookin' for? Speed? Strength? Intelligence? Youth?"

I have no idea what that means. "Um- What about, uh, Speed and Strength?" Can't go wrong with that combination.

Kitten laughs, turning back to the door and opening it. The smell that wafts forth makes me want to retch and for the first time, I realize the full scope of what we're dealing with.

In cages all along the walls, raptors and other species of lizards were chained together in the dark. There were various noises of pain but none so loud that they could have reached us when we were out in the throne room. For the most part they were silent, still, like a dangerous beast that watches for the opportunity to pounce. Some had open, festering wounds and others were actually dead, piled up against the one wall that didn't have cages. They were tossed to the side with their stomachs ripped open and their long tongues lolling out of slack jaws, the only activity being the armies of ants that crawled over their bloated forms, black like rotten fruit.

Junko makes a small sound of despair. Finn is at my side, gripping my shoulder tight enough to hurt. Even if he wasn't so close, I would have noticed him shaking.

"You look confused," Kitten says, resting against one of the bars of the cages with her legs crossed at the knee. With one hand she idly plays with her long blond braid. "Why don't we show you the process. Jaguar?" She nods to a cage and Jag snaps the gate open, his braids clicking louder than usual. Pulling his spear from its strap on his back, he moves as fast as the predator he's named after. Thrusting the tip forward, there's a blue flash of light and the raptor nearest to him and the lizard is rendered motionless, paralyzed. He drags the raptor out by his tail.

"No no, Jaggy." Kitten says. "That one is too wiry. I want… Well, it's too bad we never got our hands on Repton himself. He would have been perfect for this very special order- oh!"

She stops as I grab her arm, pulling her to me. I find my voice at last, though it's shaking. "What in God's name is going on here?" I demand.

"Pah. I thought you knew?" Shaking her long blond braid over her shoulder with a toss of her head, she looks up at me. "Or are you just curious at the actual process itself?"

What does she _think_ I mean? Is she that far over the edge that she doesn't understand? Shoving her away from me with disgust, with my left hand I draw my red dagger and power it up, tip pointed at the Sky Knight. Behind me I hear the tell-tale snap of Finn's crossbow reloading and a loud growl from Junko.

"I mean what are you doing with these raptors?" I nod to the tragedy around me, heart beating so fast I might just throw up. "What…" I slash in the air, anger unlike anything I've ever known bubbling up inside me. This is worse than Cyclonia by far. "What's the meaning of these cages- these- _corpses_ littering this place? Don't you have any respect for their lives? What kind of Sky Knight are you?"

Kitten smiles thinly, thankfully not showing her teeth. "The process, then. First we pick the one we want based on their talents, and then we slice open their stomach while they're still alive, reach inside, rip out their heart. We use this as the base material for crystals… such as this one."

Her hand shoots out and her whip snaps my dagger out of my hand. A purple bolt of electricity grazes over my head, so close my hair sizzles. I roll to the side, pulling out my other dagger and letting loose three blue blasts. Kitten darts to her left, running with her whip flashing like a living creature. Purple and blue bolts fill the air and that starts the fight. A green supernova illuminates the entire room and Junko roars, his monstrous wallop lungs expelling every last breath of air. Metal screams as he rips the cages aside like paper, snapping the chains that contain the raptors. Finn's trigger finger goes wild, but Jag is fast. He blocks each one with the haft of his spear, returning fire when he can. They circle each other and that's all I have the attention span to follow as the most excruciating pain I've ever felt- including the time my face got ripped open by the Dark Ace- courses through my body.

Kitten's whip wraps around my ankle, pulses of purple light spreading from there up my chest. She jerks her hand back and knocks me off my feet, sending me onto my back. Spotting my other dagger just to the side, I reach for it and sit up, striking the whip with both in an X shape. Red and blue meld into a perfect purple to match the jagged tip of Kitten's weapon and the two clouds of energy twine like dueling serpents, clawing at each other. I break my foot free and hop to my feet, rushing forward in the moment of confusion and bringing both daggers up at a deadly angle.

The fight is over.

Fights generally don't last very long, when it's one person up against me.

The blades slice through the spaces between her ribs. With one violent jerk I reach her heart and she dies, letting go of her whip to wrap her arms around my shoulders, holding me tight.

She sobs a single word into my ear just before she dies.

" _Griffin_."

The world around me comes into a sudden sharp focus, the sound of scales hissing against stone as the stampede of freed raptors swarm over Jag, rushing past the open door to escape. Kitten is still stuck to me by the daggers jammed inside her body and so I slide them out, setting her down on the floor where the blood pools around her, soaking her long blond hair which had gotten cut loose during our first and last fight.

As though from far away, I hear a scream and the sounds of wild flying shots. "Finn, help them. They don't have any weapons."

He looks at me, crossbow limp in his hands.

"You heard me!" I bark. "Help them! Those other Interceptors could show up any second!"

He runs out the open door without a word, following the crowd of raptors who had gone to find the rest of their captors. All of the raptors are gone now. Junko had gone with them, caught up in the frenzy himself. The only people left were me, the dead, and the one raptor who had been frozen by Jag's spear.

His yellow eyes swiveled up at me, the only part of him able to move. Looking around, I spot Jag's spear and point it awkwardly at him, not sure how it worked. Prodding him once seemed to do the trick- with a frightened jump he was mobile again, struggling to his feet though disoriented from being paralyzed. I try to help him but he shoves me aside, breathing harshly.

"…key," he says. "To the…to the weapons… she has them…"

He stumbles past me to Kitten. With one claw, he rips off her eye patch. In the hollow of her left eye, a single purple crystal rests, pulsing softly. He pulls it out and holds it towards me, triumph written in his tired face.

"I owe you one, Sky Knight."

Suddenly weary, I sit down on the floor with one knee drawn up to my chest. "You don't owe me anything, man," I say to the dingy tiles. My mind is still reeling from what I had seen, and I was already comprehending the repercussions. I had aided in the destruction of a newly formed squadron, but that wasn't even the worst of it. There were people out there who were using crystals formed from dead raptors- people knew what was going on. They'd known for months and months and…

I put my face in my hand to try and block the mental images that sprang up. Letting loose a long breath, I speak again.

"You don't owe me _anything_."

**OoOoOo**

**Repton**

Something's going on. I hear noises like the sound of a great lightning storm, full of thunder. My tail swishes from side to side as the options I have present themselves to me: Stay here and be safe like a good little coward, or go join the fighting.

The outcome is obvious.

"Come on, boys!" I shout, surprising my crew out of their languid lazing about, waiting for something to happen. I stride past them on my way to my Bone Wing, holding my boomerang up and pointed towards my stronghold. "Things are getting interesting."

I don't wait for an answer, roaring up my engines and blasting through the foliage. The doors to my stronghold are already open so I open my wings and soar in, boomerang blasting to let everyone know I've arrived. Down below me I see my people in swarms- people I hadn't seen in months, who I had assumed were dead. I land amidst them with a crash, tossing a spare dagger to anyone nimble enough to leap up and catch it out of the air. Surrounded on all sides were three Interceptors who didn't look nearly as scared as they should have been. My mouth twitches upward in a smile to see the wallop and the blond Storm Hawk are a part of the mob, weapons at the ready.

"You're in for a world of pain."

I hiss, and my people follow suit.

**OoOoOo**

**Omniscient**

The world was silent. Upstairs, the bloodbath had ended brutally as it had begun, and no one had yet thought to check the hated dungeons for more Interceptors. No one wanted to go back there, especially not the raptors, who had been trapped there for so long. Especially not the three lone Storm Hawks, who wanted to forget the terrible secret they had been made privy to.

No one, and nothing, moved.

Except the ants.

And then:

The steady drum of soft, unhurried footsteps on the stone floor. He stopped before Kitten's corpse, standing there in silent rumination of what he saw.

And then:

He knelt next to her, pushing her blond hair out of her face, pale fingers lightly tracing the outline of her missing eye before moving to close the good blue one, which remained open and still shimmering with vestiges of fear at what she had seen before and after she died. Ants were already beginning to march around her body in solemn single file for her funeral march.

The man's black hair ruffled with a sudden wind, even though there were no windows to let the world's breath reach the two there, deep in the belly of Terra Bogaton.

…And…. Then…

She blinked, her blue eye opening.

She sat up, rubbing at her forehead like someone who had woken up from a deep sleep.

"How do you feel?" The Dark Ace wanted to know, crouching next to Kitten with his head tilted to the side. She took a moment to respond, clearing her throat, and then she smiled with her sharp little teeth.

"Alive," she said with a hint of her impish, wild nature.

The Dark Ace made a noise like "hmm" and sat down next to her, his legs crossed under him Indian-style. "And? How was it?"

"Painful."

His lips twisted in a humorless smirk. "Painful, but necessary." He glanced upward suddenly, as though a noise had alerted him to the presence of someone else. "A storm is brewing over Atmos," he said at last. "The signs are all in our favor."

"How observant of you, Dark Ace." Another voice joined them. It was high-pitched, like a small silver bell. "In any case, the harbingers of our end have been gathered." Yellow eyes glowing in the gloom, Olive crouched in the shadows of a nearby corner, her long ears twitching in delight. She giggled softly. "All except one."

"True. We need to choose the Fifth wisely," The Dark Ace agreed with her, running a hand through his thick black hair. He seemed unsettled. "It will be hard, since we have lost the one we wanted."

"Don't worry. It's been taken care of."

The three looked up, speaking in chorus.

"The First," they said in greeting.

Nova grinned at them, sword tip in the ground as he leaned upon it. Golden light emanated from the crystal embedded in the hilt, wafts of energy that floated around him, playing with his shocking white hair. "The Fifth will be found," he reassured them all, pulling his sword up and out, the tip pointed towards them. "And she is the Fifth we have sought for so long. She will be found… but not by us."

Kitten the Interceptor and Olive both seemed pleased by this, but the Dark Ace actually stood up, red eyes blazing with emotion. "When?" he said, voice pleading. He put his hands on Nova's shoulders, seeking out eyes red as his own. "By whom?"

Nova shoved him backwards, out of his personal space. "Soon," he promised, dusting himself off.

"By the Storm Hawks."


	10. Taking Chase As The Serpent Slithers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Never mind the time or the spinning of your head, I could tell my life was changing since the minute I met you."

**Repton.**

Spitz stands before me, long face parted in a disgusting smirk. He had dragged me away from the group of lizards milling around the humans, talking to them and sizing them up as they redistributed the weapons and the provisions to those around them. The truth is, most of my people are such savage dumb asses they've never even heard of the Storm Hawks, and so accordingly they give the most space to that pacifist wallop, especially since he was the one to actually break their chains and set them free.

Raptors aren't immune to all emotions. They feel fear, need, pride, resentment, anger, lust. Above all, they have fear for themselves. Greed. They're selfish, and I'm the most selfish of all. I had to scrape and fight claw and tooth for anything I could get and if anyone thought they were going to take it away from me, they had another thing coming. I learned to be ruthless, idiotically so, and that's the only way I know how to survive. A raptor never abandons his prey. That was my mantra for so long. Something so strong that if the world around me was falling I would be blind to it, blinded by my rage and insane desire to always see things through until I am the victor, I am on top, I am the ruler of all and the destroyer of many.

...Yeah, right.

_"We avoid the wallop not because we respect him, but because we know he has us under his thrall now. We know that he and his squadron have the upper hand because they saved our lives."_

Just yesterday, my cousin Tork said that to me.

_I swished my tail in the dust in annoyance at him, at his ignorance. I liked him better when I thought he was dead, but that's always the case, isn't it? We never like a person in our life, but then they're suddenly gone and all you do is say his strengths and never his weaknesses. What is it about death that has us so… contradictory? Arms crossed over my chest, I glanced over to the wallop in question. "Trust me, he's the last one you need to concern yourself with. And as for favors, you don't owe these bastards anything. I already have a payment set up for them, and they're not the type to take advantage of us." The strong winds of my Terra blew against us, kicking up small eddies of dust. I licked my eyes._

_"They saved our lives," he said again, rubbing the spines along his jaw as he always did when thinking. "I was up next for execution when they arrived, kin. I could feel the human's blade against my chest."_

_I hissed in dissatisfaction. Idiot. I lowered my voice to the point where he had to lean_ _in to hear me, and lean in he did. He grew closer to me, brow raised in curiosity. "Well if you're so set on repaying him…" I turned to face my cousin, striking out with one hand and sending him back into the dust. He scrambled away from me as I reached for my boomerang. "Then go lick his boots for all I care! It was your fault for being captured in the first place, sniveling coward!" That attracted stares and I turned on the rest of them, weapon bared. Even though most of them were unarmed, if they had their weapons they wouldn't have dared stepped up to challenge me anyway. "And you! All of you! Didn't I warn you not to trust the Interceptors? Not to stand here and let them have their way? To strike back, even if it meant having all of Atmosia after our tails? At least then we would have gone down fighting instead of being caged like animals!"_

_After dislodging a wad of spit on the ground, I sheathed my weapon and mounted my Bone Wing, roaring away from the gathered crowd. They watched me leave. I felt their many eyes accusing me, burning into my back. Why hadn't I come to their rescue? But of course, they knew. They knew I only looked out for number one. Even my own brothers would be dead by now if that dry leather husk who gave birth to me hadn't made me promise not to slaughter them. Bumbling idiots always got in my way, even if they had also gotten me out of a few scrapes as well by their knack for sniffing out trouble. I tend to forget about trouble when I'm focused on one thing… maybe I'm the only idiot here, willing to die but only if I know I'll have the last laugh._

"Hello? Both?" His lisp is pronounced, accompanied by a healthy spattering of the fluid his name is reminiscent of. "Can you anther my question now?"

I snap back to reality, my tongue flickering over my open eyes. Snap back to the present, towards now. My youngest brother is demanding my attention, as usual, and I humor him. "I wasn't listening," I admit to him, shifting my hand from relaxed to clenched and back again. I'm antsy. I want to hit the skies. I want to bring more treasures back to my stronghold, hoard it like a dragon.

"Why don't we jutht off thoth Thky Knight guyth?" he asks me, ever the voice of reason. Glancing at them out of the corner of his beady yellow eyes, he lowers his tone. "I mean, they're thitting duckth right now. The _Condor_ ith outta here and…" A grin splits his face. "Not like we're good at keeping promithes anyway, am I right?"

"Heh." My breath escapes my chest in a long, content hiss as I look over the survivors of my race. "You're eager, Spitz. Normally I would agree with you, but…"

"But?" He trails off, his tail drooping in open disappointment. He had probably already been envisioning what it would be like to kill such a strong enemy. The respect that would garner would elevate him to new heights of glory he had only dreamed of before.

"…But I feel like honoring my word, just this once." Against my will, I feel myself smiling thinly.

Spitz's eyes widen in shock. "Both, you thick or thumthing?"

The smile is lost. "Do I look like I'm sick?" I snap back at him and he cowers in fear, shrinking before my height and girth and strength. He wouldn't stand a chance against a Sky Knight anyway, I reason. None of us would. And with half of Terra Bogaton feeling as though they owe the Storm Hawks a blood oath, I had a feeling they might revolt against me if I invited bad karma onto us.

As if I hadn't already harvested enough bad karma already. Maybe the reward I had in store for the Storm Hawks would be enough to appease my mother and let her know I'm still taking care of the family the only way I know how. Or maybe it's not enough. I am, after all, going to give to them something that's no use to me. Maybe it has to be personal, in order to set things straight again with my mother, whom I feel is still watching me with such a critical eye.

Peh.

As if I'd sacrifice any more of myself for the dead salamander.

"We promised the Storm Hawks a reward," I say because I know Spitz wants an answer that is suited to his small brain. "If we refuse them or if we attack them they'll have all of Atmosia actively on our tails. This," I pause for dramatic effect, waving at my emaciated kinsmen. "Is what they do under cover, illicitly. Imagine for yourself what they would do if they had the go-ahead from the Sky Council."

He shudders visibly, tongue rolling out of his mouth. "I gueth.. I gueth we have no choith, then."

I clasp his shoulder and squeeze it. He winces at first but then relaxes when he realizes I'm not trying to hurt him for his stupidity. Not right now, at least. "We have no choice but to offer up the Shard."

"That thcrap of junk?" Spitz asks me, unbelieving. "That ain't no kind of reward, Both. They gonna murder uth if they get thum broken crythtal that don't even work right."

"Trust me, Spitz. These kids'll act as if I've given them the world."

In truth, I was. I was giving them everything they'd been searching for, for the past three years. Maybe that Piper girl would find a use for it, or maybe it would be the Sky Council, but a use would be found. Just not by me. I'd been hoarding it for so long, hoping that somehow I could find a way to unlock that power for myself. In the end I decided if I couldn't have it, no one could.

And I had promised it to them.

I could break that promise.

These goody two shoes probably don't want a reward anyway.

But…

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

"So are we all agreed?"

I look around me, expectant.

"Is that how humans decide things?" One raptor wanted to know, scoffing. "Voting? Seems pretty tame."

Other than an belligerent attitude, the raptors are surprisingly compliant, more willing to work together than their reputation would have us believe. They're not saints, but it seems more and more like what Stork said was true about them- that Repton was the exception, not the rule. Even among his own people he's considered something of a tyrant, but they're used to tyrants. Heck, they expect tyrants. It's how they get by on a harsh Terra like Bogaton.

"It's how the good guys decide things," Finn says to him. "Well, it's more like how the level-headed people decide things, but whatever."

"I think _your_ head is screwed on wrong, Sky Knight." Tork, the raptor that I had saved from the clutches of Kitten and her Interceptors, speaks up. He has a black eye, fresh and newly swollen. I'd like to believe it was because of an accident, but knowing these people… "Even we draw the line at that. Besides, Repton would never agree."

I smirk, for real this time. Not an illusion because of my scar, which gives me the appearance of always having a sinister grin. "Oh yeah? Well, unless my ears are deceiving me, he's coming around right now. We'll ask him and get the final vote."

The steady hum of Repton's Bone Wing turns into a roar. It's him and his three brothers tearing up the dirt path and skidding to a halt next to me, scattering lizards this way and that in order to avoid getting run over. He leans over, pushing his face way into my personal space to glare at me.

"What are you still doing here, Sky Knight?" he demands. "Waiting for your payment?"

"Nope," I tell him brightly. "I'm still trying to finish my job here."

"Oh yeah? And what's left for you to do?"

"I'm going to appoint you Governor of Terra Bogaton."

There is a long, long pause. The lizards around us look at me with resentment and confusion in their eyes. Tork huffs and puffs but says nothing to contradict me, instead busying himself by fiddling with his jaw-spikes. Repton himself is speechless, either shocked or angry or utterly clueless, I can't tell. Leugey is the one to actually venture out into the awkward silence and smiles hugely at his brother, nudging him in the ribs.

"Hey, that sounds pretty neat, Bro!" the simple lizard says, awaiting acknowledgment and agreement from the older lizard.

Repton reacts, but it's only to emit a loud, vicious snarl and shove Leugey away from him. "I told you never to call me that!" he says, scales rattling.

"S-sorry Boss." He steers his Bone Wing a little farther away from Repton and shrinking in his seat. Repton lets out a long-suffering sound, somewhere between a rumbling growl and a sigh of defeat. I wait patiently for him to gather his wits, coolly watching him from beneath raised eyebrows.

"I don't get it," he says, finally speaking to me. "Firstly, you don't have the authority to pull that off. And secondly…" he barks out a laugh. "Governor? What do you think this is- Terra Atmosia? Bogaton runs by the rules of the jungle, boy. There's no room for bureaucracy here."

We've danced around the point long enough; here is the time when I need to lay all the cards out on the table if I'm to get my plan to work. My insane, but necessary plan. Stepping up to his Bone Wing, I place my hand on top of the steering wheel and look up into his large, cold yellow eyes. "Well, you'd better make room," I tell him. "I'm going to pull every string I can to get Terra Bogaton accepted as an official Terra under the rule of the Sky Council in Terra Atmosia."

There's assorted mumbling from the crowd of lizards who hung around us. I wave towards them, towards the pitiful skeletons that used to be lizards as big and strong as Repton. "These guys have already heard my plan and they agree. You have nothing to lose by becoming respectable citizens, raptor."

"Except our freedom." He doesn't like being talked to that way. That's all right, though. I know anger is his weak point, and I'm pretty sure I can exploit it some how. "And you expect a bunch of no good raptors to bend to your laws, Sky Knight?" he demands, the hiss evident in his voice. "You want us to-"

"Build an economy, better houses, cities and an easier access to crystals, education, protection from the sky armies of Atmos and all the assorted Sky Knights under the control of the Sky Council?" I finish for him, still smiling. "A place to voice your complaints and your Terra's problems to, a place to get aid and succor when the crops of Terra Bogaton fail, instead of resorting to piracy?"

"We're not going soft just because you helped us out once, _boy_."

"Well you know what, Repton?" I jab at the controls to his Bone Wing, shutting off the power abruptly. The steady purring of the motor dies and I lose my smile, glaring at him. "I'm still helping you, whether you like it or not. I know you guys aren't going to change over night, which is why I'm putting you in charge. You know this place, but you also know what it's like in Atmosia. You're a go-between guy. A translator, if you will. But most importantly to you, I'm giving you control over Terra Bogaton. I'm giving you a position that actually means something outside the battlefield. And if you're governor, it makes it easier for me to see that you're being a good boy and that you're allowed a little more freedom from your supposed exile in Terra Bogaton."

He lifts his chin up, mouth set in a firm, straight line. He pretends to be insulted but I know I'm tugging at his interests. "And what do you want in return, for being so friendly?" he asks. "What are you getting out of this?"

"Pirates out of the skies," I say. "Protection and support for the weak. A small step towards making this world a better place."

"You know, I really hate it when you spout that heroic crap."

"Well, it's the truth." I step back. "Now, are you going to be a good boy and help make your home a better place, or-"

I felt at ease, as though I had finally come to a solution to a problem that had been tearing at the edges of Atmosia's borders for so long. If the lizards could be kept under a tighter leash, it would be harder to keep illegal experimentation a secret. If they could be convinced that becoming an official commonwealth was the best choice of action, we would be making steps towards real progress. I don't know what type of "progress" Kitten was talking about when she found out I was trying to stop her, but that's not the type of progress anyone should need. If other people were benefiting from the torture of innocents, then something was very wrong with the world and I wanted to fix it.

Instead…

Repton raises one leg up, shooting it out and kicking me square in the chest. I go flying back into the dust, caught completely off guard and knocked breathless. Dazed, I stumble to my feet amidst the laughter of the raptors who surround us. "What's the matter, Dark Ace?" Repton asks, voice derisive. "Feeling a little light headed? You're tripping all over the place!"

He hops off the seat of his motorbike, striding towards me with his large chest puffed out and a snarling, sadistically pleased grin on his face. "Listen to me, Sky Knight," he says, prodding me in the chest. "Terra Bogaton is my territory. Here, all your titles don't mean anything. Here, I'm the one who pulls the strings. We don't need your fancy Sky Council. We're raptors, boy."

"Yeah!" shouts a faceless raptor, deep within the crowd. "Your idea was ludicrous. Atmos would never accept us as their equals."

Raptors join in, a chorus of agreement all centered around Repton, their figure of power. He stands with his arms crossed, basking in the attention and recognition of his people, in his element like never before. Pleadingly, I look around me for a friendly face, one who realized that I was trying to help them, not cage them. Those few I had actually managed to convince stayed silent, while the rest stubbornly rallied around Repton and his laws of the jungle.

"We'll always prowl the skies," Repton says, drawing his boomerang with a flash as he powered it up. The blazing heat of his boomerang lights up near my face, but I don't flinch. I meet his eyes, anger broiling inside me. "People want to kill us because they think we're the scum of the earth? Fine. If you're weak enough to get captured in the first place, you should get killed. We-"

A hand bigger than Repton's head grips the lizard by his shoulder, squeezing tightly. Repton's rant is cut short, shock stilling his tongue. The hand pulls him away from me, gently but irresistibly, and Repton looks back and upwards into the grim unsmiling face of Junko.

"If you don't want our help," he says, Knuckle Busters glowing a faint, toxic green, "Then just say so. You don't gotta be mean about it."

Repton is struck nerveless for a moment before roughly shaking the wallop off of him. "…Fine." He sheathes his boomerang, shoving past Junko to get to his Bone Wing and searching inside one of the side compartments.

"Here, Mr. Goody Two-Shoes," Repton says, carelessly tossing me a slim shard of glowing crystal. "Consider that payment to keep the hell away from my Terra in the future, and for helping us out of a little scrap. The slate is clear now, you got it?" He throws one leg over the side of his Bone Wing, upper lip curled back in a sneer. "If I see you after tomorrow, we're enemies again, understand?"

I grit my teeth. "That won't be too hard to remember," I say to him. "I'll be gone before the sun sets."

"Good." Repton's Bone Wing erupts into motion with a roar of her engines. "Because I'm really sick of seeing your ugly mug around here, Scar Face." He jerks his head towards the wilds of Terra Bogaton and his gang rev up their motors, taking off and following him into the distance. The group of raptors disperse to go follow their own path, their temporarily moment of almost-civility gone until all that is left is Tork, the raptor who was inches away from becoming a new crystal just for me.

"Told you it was a bad idea, Sky Knight…" he says, melting into the foliage with the skill of a chameleon. "If you ever find yourself back here, though, remember that I owe you one. Stay alive."

And then all that's left is me, Junko, and Finn.

"Jerks," is all Finn has to say, staring blankly into space.

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

This is a bad idea.

This is a really, really bad idea.

"This is a-" I start speaking out loud, but Piper whirls around on me and presses her finger against her lip, shushing me angrily.

"Will you knock it off?" she hisses, tangerine eyes shining in the faint light of the illuminator crystals that dot the carved stone hallway. We had flown from the town, following a mountain trail that led to the entrance to the labyrinth we found ourselves in now. Well, technically it wasn't much of a labyrinth if it was only one curvy hallway, but still. I felt caged- trapped like a rat. Every step farther away from the safety of my bird made me anxious, even if my large eyes are more suited to the murk and the gloom. Bright lights, even sunlight, can blind me at times. And so I generally regard expeditions into dark places with a mix of trepidation and delight, because I love the darkness but so do the type of creatures that love merbs… medium rare with a side of spiny spuds.

"Why are we here again?" I can't help but ask, growing closer to the girl for the support she provided, ignoring for now the danger that she posed to me just by being. A shudder rolls down my entire body, from the tips of my ears to my six toes.

"We're here to learn the secret of the crystals. I've never seen such a mastery of crystals before, so the person who lives here should have loads of things they could teach me! With this knowledge I could make every energy crystal we could ever need on the _Condor_ , and make it better than any store could! Isn't that cool?" She reaches out to me in excitement, squeezing my hand tightly. Without thought. She used to do this a lot. In fact, she's always very physical and huggy with everyone on the _Condor_ , not just me, and I used to tolerate it because I… because I didn't want to cause a fuss. But now, not only can't I stand it, but she had gripped my _wounded hand._ I wrench my hand free, holding it close to my chest in case she might try and snatch it back from me.

I wish I could have had the sense of mind to stay on the _Condor_.

And I wish my eyesight wasn't so keen, so that I could pretend that in the gloom I don't see the hurt on her face.

"Well, let's just try and get out of here quick, all right?" I say, eyelid jumping, twitching. "I don't like going into uncharted territory."

"Are you trying to beat Junko for Understatement of the Month award?" she asks me critically, upset with me like never before. I try to stay on Piper's good side because I've seen what she's capable of when angered- and now, ironically, her anger is just what I need. I need her to be as angry and hateful towards me as possible so there's no chance whatsoever that she could fall in love with me and get hurt.

"Atmos knows that's been my life's goal," I mutter just loud enough for her to hear, running a hand through my forest green hair and checking to see that my ears hadn't been gnawed off by thee-eyed mole bats by now. I held a particular fear of them because Merbian Crazy Faces don't work on their soulless eyes.

The human girl scoffs, turns her back on me and purposefully strides faster, forcing me to jog in order to keep up. It's a fine struggle, trying to maintain my distance when I'm so scared I could leap into her arms shrieking like a bad cartoon reaction to seeing a mouse. I wouldn't have to maintain my distance, though, if I had set down a line not to cross at the very first day I had set foot on the _Condor_.

_She was there at the table where we always planned our missions, bent over maps and charts and so absorbed in her work she didn't notice the lanky green merb sizing her up as a potential threat. I cleared my throat._

" _Ahem."_

_She jumped, turning around to face me. Whatever she expected to see in the doorway, it certainly wasn't me. I was a little shorter than than I am now, and she… forget about it. She was a midget and a child to me at my superior eighteen years of age. She, after all, was only thirteen. This girl I didn't know looked from me to Aerrow, who was standing next to me, and sought for the right words._

_Aerrow decided to step in. He was twelve, with only a few weeks left until thirteen as well, but he was big for his age. At least, most other twelve year olds weren't capable of the things I had witnessed him perform on his Air Skimmer, flying illegally and underage but with such skill I… I had to follow him. I knew that he could be my escape from returning to Terra Tenebria, where my father had died._

" _Piper, meet Stork. I'm thinking of making him the new helmsman. Stork, meet Piper." He grinned at her, winking. "Our resident genius."_

_The compliment was lost. "Aerrow, I thought I was going to be the pilot?" she complained, giving me the one-over I'm so familiar with. Apparently unsatisfied with what she saw, she crossed her arms and blocked me off, focusing entirely on the red head._

" _Well, to be honest Piper…" he fidgeted. "The last time you tried to fly the Condor, you almost crashed us cause you couldn't reach the controls."_

" _So you're choosing a merb because he's taller than me?"_

" _N-no, just listen…"_

_She didn't need to listen. I didn't care what some bratty human had to say. Without a word, I walked past them towards the helm. It was like coming home, touching that steering wheel for the first time. Knowing exactly who the pilot had been, the pilot of the famous Storm Hawks. Knowing she had stood right here, where I was standing. I didn't ask permission. I just fired up the engine and took to the skies, propelling the old bird so fast Aerrow and Piper were knocked to their feet by the sudden acceleration. I laughed- it would be the first time of many they were caught off balance like that, but I couldn't have known that then. All of my calculated, careful planning to stay on the Condor no matter what was thrown out the window and I knew all I needed was just one day flying her, exploring the skies. She was an old bird but I liked that. I could feel that she had a spirit and a life just as surely as I did. I knew that no one, no one except me could ever pilot her this way. Because I felt the same way she did. I knew what it was like, to lose your family. To witness it happening._

_To be soaked in their blood._

_I was in tune with all of the sorrow on board the Condor, and no flight training school could ever teach a person how to listen to the ghosts that haunt a ship and give her life at the cost of the lives of her crew. Dad told me that, told me that I had to teach myself to listen. I just applied the same concept to flying ships._

_I landed a few hours later on Terra Atmosia, not willing to let go. When the Condor was dry-docked I still stood there, clenching the controls tightly, waiting for Aerrow to drag me away from my sanctuary because that was how these things always ended, with me being taken away from anything that could bring me peace of mind or, god forbid, even happiness._

_Instead he clapped me on the shoulder, awe in his voice. "Where'd you learn to fly birds like that?" he asked, electric. Ecstatic. "I didn't even know the Condor was capable of moving so gracefully!"_

_I turned around slowly, my ears flattened against my skull and cringing slightly, waiting for him to say "Psyche!" and boot me outside._

" _Did you go to the pilot's school in Atmosia?" Piper wanted to know. "I've seen some of those aerial techniques before, but never in person…" she rested her palm against the cold metal walls of the Condor. "And never on such an old ship model."_

" _I, uh…" I swallowed nervously, stammering. Out of my element now that I was out of the skies, I tried to come up with a suitable lie. Something they would believe. But the best lies were always seeped in truth, so..._

" _My mother taught me. She was a pilot. I mean-" slapping my hand against my forehead, I tried to gather my wits. I gesture rapidly at everything around me. "She was the pilot."_

_Recognition flared in their eyes. "You mean…" Piper started uncertainly._

_I met their eyes without fear. "Yeah," I said, pride managing to break me away from my natural paranoia. "The pilot of the Condor."_

That was when we became team mates. It took longer for me to accept them as friends, or a surrogate family as they so tried to be. All of them knew the same loss I did, and found a way to fill those holes where their parents should have stood. Aerrow's father and my mother were both most likely killed by the Dark Ace. Of course my dad- half human, half-merb himself- was killed by the merbs of Terra Tenebria after they found he had been having an affair with a human woman. Olive's father took me in after that, since my real merbian mother had died before I could remember. Not that she would have stepped up anyway.

Finn was abandoned as well, taken in by Aerrow's mother when he was still little. Judging by his blond hair I'd have said he was from Terra Rex, but there was no way to tell for sure. Junko was raised by some old matriarch, an aunt or something- his parents had tried to kill him or something crazy like that.

Piper never told me about her family. All I know is that they're all dead.

I never found out, and I didn't want to. I still don't want to.

So technically they all had the potential to fly the _Condor_ like a pro. They just never learned how to listen. And now Piper is trying to lead me down that same deadly path as my father even though I've told her Merb-Human relations are forbidden. I threatened to leave the _Condor_ but she's not listening.

None of them ever do.

So now I'm at my last resort before leaving the _Condor_ entirely. I'm being mean to her so she'll revert to how things used to be- we are team mates, we have a professional relationship, do not mingle with me.

This, I try to reason, is something that needed to be dealt with eventually. I'd been seeing her growing fonder and fonder of me as the days went by, but I hadn't stopped it because I thought it might be a figment of my imagination, and if so, I _liked_ it. It'd been a while since anyone had ever felt- that way, about… me. Me, of all people. It was nice to think that it was happening again, and with someone who- well, let's be honest here- someone who wasn't my sister. That was how I justified it.

"Piper, I'm seriously scared here," I say, eyes darting around me, searching all shadowy corners for anything that might try to leap out and eat me. "We've been walking down this path for-"

"Two minutes," she says. "You're overreacting as usual, Stork. Look- I can see light from around the bend."

I blink, paying attention now to where she was pointing, and lo and behold it was true. A faint yellow glow made the darkness fade as we approach it, flickering like a live fire even though it's simply a flame crystal embedded into the wall for light and warmth.

In the receding darkness a mottled black shape comes into view. My eyes adjust to the light and I see its a large, cage-like door, and behind it-

Her.

All I have time to see is a shock of white hair before the woman behind the cage hurriedly throws a black cloak over herself. She retreats from the door, her back turned to us and hunched over in the shadows of the corner. I can't see her too well, so I assume she is old and decrepit and… very, very freaky. Before either of us could speak she does, voice low and deceptively young.

"What are you here for, Storm Hawks?" that strangely familiar voice asks us from beneath the black hood of her cloak. It's not unusual that she knows us- heck, just about everyone and their mother knows about the Storm Hawks by now.

"I, um…" Piper pulls out a small notebook she had brought along with her. "Are you the woman who makes the special crystals?" she asks, hope and trepidation in her voice.

The woman responds with a question of her own, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up erect. "Is that all you know me by?"

I tug at Piper's elbow, nodding towards the exit. "We should leave now while there's still time," I tell her.

Piper shrugs me off, angry. "Stork, knock it off," she says under her breath. Louder, she says, "Um, cause if you are, I was wondering if you could please maybe…"

"…Teach you my art?" the woman finishes. It might be my imagination, but I think I hear sarcasm in her voice. She turns around, her long white hair hanging loose but her face hidden in the depths of her black hood. Walking to the gate, she grabs the bars and leans forward. I can't see her eyes but I can feel them burning into me. I want to leave… now.

"You would follow me, Piper?" she asks.

"I only have a little bit of time, but if you could just give me some…" Piper starts weakly, perhaps starting to find her reason and realizing that something is very off here. "…pointers, or tips or…" her tangerine eyes look over the gate. "Uh… why are you locked up like this?" she asks bluntly. Grasping out with one hand, she reaches out to the woman, to touch the bars. "Did someone do this to you? Because I can-"

"I put the bars here," the woman says, interrupting her. "I find no reason to tell you why." Piper pulls back, cowed for the moment. Chuckling softly, the hermit woman retreats further into her cell, setting down on the edge of her bunk. "If you want a crystal I will make it for you in return for money and food. I will not teach you my dread art. I will not teach anybody. I suggest you leave this place once we have completed our business and forget I exist."

"But-" driven by her fool desire to know everything, Piper tries to get inside the cage. She pulls at the handle and finds that the door swings open easily- no locks held the hermit woman inside her cave. "But if I could-"

A flash of red light blinds me. With a yelp I drop to the floor, my hands covering my head and quaking in fear. That doesn't help, though- something heavy slams into me and we go tumbling. Blinking and struggling to extricate myself, I see it's Piper lying on top of me, blood gushing from a cut in her forehead. So much blood. It takes me to a place I don't want to be, nine years old and screaming, cracking, on the edge of that plateau where people weren't meant to go. And I did crack. And I'm still cracked.

Oh God.

Piper's dead She's dead Everyone dead Murdered and it's because of me Because I allowed her to grow close to me even though I knew this would happen I didn't stop it when I could and now it's too late _\- now- now- And now she- Now She Is Dead Again Because Of_ _ **Me**_

Then she groans in pain, a single tear coursing its way down her cheek. Reality knocks me in the head along with the shattering sound of a plate falling to the floor. A table being overturned. The sounds of rage from within the cell. I look up, unable to move yet even though my mind is telling me to run.

The woman has tossed her cloak aside and stands outside her cage with a red striker crystal in her hands, illuminating the red glow of her albino eyes. Finally, I see her face. Unobstructed, glaring cruelly at me, the harsh lines of her angular face illuminated by the glow of the flame crystal, shadows crossing over her eyes, making her seem more monstrous and terrible than even I could ever imagine.

The woman is not a stranger.

This

Is

Not

Happening.

This can't be real. This woman can't be. This woman is _not_. This is a nightmare. And I want to wake up. I want to wake up now.

"Sah…" I stammer, hands holding onto Piper's shoulders as I try to sit up and drag us both away, back to the exit and see if there's still time to find the daylight and wake up from this. My trembling feet kick at the floor, jerking me backwards a few inches more, toenails scrabbling for purchase on the floor like a chorus of screaming, suffocating rats. "Sah… Si.. Suh…S- S-…"

I can only get that first sound out of my mouth. I can't say her name, because to say her name is make it real and give her power and admit this is real. But I say it anyway because I'm an idiot.

" _Cyclonis_!"

A red witch's hand made of pure energy grabs me around my middle, flings me to the side like a rag doll. Instinct- Merbian instinct- takes over and I flip in midair, clinging to the cave walls like a lizard, my strong toes made for climbing trees gripping nicely to the textured rock. The red hand strikes again, shaped into a fist and slams into the cave wall as I leap away from the spot, landing on all floors and skidding to the side. There's no space in here to fight, it's too cramped and I don't have a weapon. BAM! The hand sweeps to the side, trying to chop me in half. I leap over it, landing and rolling to where Piper lies and reaching to her belt where she keeps her energy staff. I unfold it just in time, sending a blast of blue energy at Cyclonis. The hand shoots back towards her, condensing into a thick red shield. I don't wait for her to react, instead charging towards her with Piper's energy staff twirling in one hand. I leap into the air, bringing it point down into the shield and pushing forward with all of the power of the blue striker crystal equipped. The forces mold and writhe, red and blue not combining into purple like nature dictates that they should but instead fighting each other for supremacy.

Red wins.

I'm knocked backwards with such force there's no way to correct my fall. I slam into the wall and then slide to the floor like a slug, conveniently landing close to the only person who ever wanted to be my friend, Piper, who's probably going to die for real now because of me and my selfish behavior.

"Told you it was doomed," I say hoarsely to her, even though she can't hear me and my last-ditch attempt at humor.

Cyclonis is speaking to us.

"Never could leave well enough alone, could you?" she says, voice thick with anger. She tosses her head, long white hair flipping back over her shoulder and her red eyes glaring at us. It reminds me of someone else, and I wonder if Cyclonis has her hair white on purpose. Maybe all the villains in the world decided to convene and use a uniform of black clothes, white hair, and red eyes. If so, Repton really needed to get into the loop, because-

The most terrible pain courses through my body and I scream, electrocuted by the power of that red striker crystal.

" _You just had to come and find me_!"

I'm thrown again, tossed around. Piper is ignored, motionless on the ground. I hope she stays that way, pray that Cyclonis thinks she is dead and not knocked unconscious. Maybe there's hope for the human. After all, my father's human woman is still alive out there, somewhere. Maybe this is the way it's meant to-

I can't think again, only scream like a child. But this time I'm the one being tortured to death, bleeding all over the floor, the puddle spreading towards Piper. She is the witness to the crime. The pain stops, just long enough for me to breathe in and out, limbs twitching and trying to crawl away. Cyclonis's foot lands next to my face and I wince, cringing. Her energy staff is in her hands, the deadly point of the red striker crystal aimed at me. She brings it up.

But she never lets it fall.

Summoning up all my energy, all of my will to survive just one more day, I leap up and grasp at that staff, struggling with her for control, desperation making me strong. I'm hunched over, unable to stand straight or think straight from the pain. I'm face to face with her, with the red eyes of madness staring right at me.

"Just… die.. Already!" she says, every word strained, her arms shaking from the exertion of keeping me at bay. We press against each other, feet slipping every so often as they struggle for purchase on the blood-slick stone floor. And then I lift my foot up, nimble toes grasping at her throat and squeezing tight enough to block her windpipe. She gags, dropping the spear at once to clutch at the grasping digits. Anyone who's ever fought a merb before would have known to watch out for our feet.

Jeez, even Piper knew that much.

I throw her back and snap forward with the staff, slicing open her arm with the sharp edge of the crystal followed by a blast of red energy. She's battered, winded, out of shape. But I don't give up. I can't, not until I know Piper is safe. I strike again, smashing the staff against her head with a ferocity I thought I had lost when I left Terra Tenebria for good.

I hate myself even as I strike once, twice, three times more, a final blow to her head that sends her to the floor. She doesn't get up- Master Cyclonis, a girl who almost had the world at its knees, beaten by a merb. Not even a fighting merb. Merlop doesn't work as well on me as it does with others- the wound on my hand kept reopening, for example, and my chest still aches when I run too fast.

A harsh, rasping sound fills the air and I realize it's my breath. My chest rises and falls in shuddering, spastic movements and my knees can't support me anymore. I crumble down with the two girls, propping myself up by Cyclonis's staff.

I just incapacitated Master Cyclonis.

Oh. My. God.

What in the name of Atmos do I do now?


	11. The Armada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She moves so slowly like a lover's breath. I had so many questions, and she had all the answers for me now, but I don't believe it, I don't believe her now."

**Piper**

I open my eyes, blinking at the sunlight that streams through my window. The window Stork bought me the day he blew up my room, even though it was originally meant as a "Please don't kill me" joke he actually went ahead with it. With money out of his own pocket, he went and had constructors fill in the blank. Sure, they had to fix it anyway because the _Condor_ can't fly with a big gaping hole in her side, but the fact that he actually put the window, just for me…

I already forgot the destination my train of thought was headed towards. My head hurts. Everything… hurts.

I can't remember what happened after I stepped inside that cage, but I guess I must have gotten into a fight. Had the hermit woman attacked me? Had something else happened that I didn't remember? My eyes feel glazed, sticky, as I glance around me without any real energy to propel them. I'm lethargic and sick and ready to be violently ill, but I have to get up. Gritting my teeth, I inch my way up into a sitting position, resting myself against the headboard when I find that any movement causes the room to spin. The pain is so intense white flashes of light blur my vision, but I can't go back to sleep. I can't. I need to see that Stork is OK.

Breathing in, breathing out. Everything is measured and precise, like the way I work with crystals in my lab. I just have to apply that to my body now- standing up on two feet, fighting back nausea, struggling with the Sandman and my memories. It's a bloody battle without an end in sight. A flash of purple catches my eye. On the desk, next to my crystal scope and some of my works in progress is a single violet bloom. It's of the hibiscus family, I can see, with long stamens and broad petals. But I've seen this plant before. I know what it is.

Merlop.

Agonizingly slow, step by step, I reach the medicinal plant and stand woozily before it, swaying from side to side and hands shaking as they reach for it. I rip off a single petal, wondering how potent its powers were. Thinking better of it, I then rip the petal into smaller portions and place the smallest one on the tip of my tongue. It tastes sweet, like strawberries, but as I chew it the flavor grows bitter in my mouth. The effect is immediate, so rapid I know it's not just a placebo affect. My back straightens and the double vision righted itself, the contrast of colors more sharp and clear than I had ever noticed.

It doesn't take me long to find Stork. He's at the helm, so concentrated on flying he doesn't even notice me there until I touch his shoulder gently. He jumps with a shriek, whirling around. Suddenly struck by something weird, just the sight of him makes a sharp pain in my chest, but it kind of tingles, too. It feels… kind of nice.

"Oh, Piper," he says, wiping at his forehead. "It's just you. I thought you were…"

He pauses.

"Are you feeling all right now?" he asks instead of finishing whatever it was that he was going to say. I nod. Looking me up and down with a critical eye, eventually he relented and turned back around to point his attention back to flying. "I see you found the merlop. Did you use the whole flower?"

That's shocking to me, that he could assume I would waste something so valuable. "Of course not!" I say, moving to stand next to him at the helm. He's not shrinking away from me now, not scared of the 'threat' I pose to him. I wonder if he simply forgot or if…

"Why not?" he asks, voice mild as he scans the skies. "It helps you recover faster the more you eat. I smuggled it onboard just in case of emergencies like this, you know. At least something good came out of our trip to Tenebria."

"But I feel just fine, and I only used half a petal," I say, tilting my head to the side to try and look at his long, handsome face. "Maybe my wounds weren't that serious."

"But…" He clenches the steering wheel, letting out a long breath. His eyes close, and his jaws work in his closed mouth as he fights some inner battle. Perhaps his train of thought stopped at the wrong station and he was gathering ideas to form something coherent. "I guess so," he says after another moment of silence. "I just want to make sure you heal completely."

That makes me smile, a big smile that shows all my teeth. Stork notices my silence to glance over at me and does a double take when he sees my face, perhaps startled by my expression.

"…What?" he asks, shoulders hunching and his tone getting defensive.

"What, what?" I ask in return. As an afterthought, I add, "Chicken butt!" and start laughing. In fact, I can't stop laughing until it hurts so bad I can't breathe. "Oooh hahaha…" Hunched over with my hands over my gut, I try to reign myself in before I have an aneurysm or something. Stork's eyes grow until they take up approximately one third of his entire face.

"No, Piper, I mean-" he stops. Bites his lower lip. I watch him, waiting patiently for him to finish whatever paranoid observation he was likely to now make. He surprises me by shaking his head and returning to flying the ship. "…Uh, n-never mind. Why don't you go back to your room? You're probably still a little woozy from the Merlop and… and you're staring at me."

I thrust my lower lip out in a pout. "But I'm not tired," I complain, making legs with my fingers and walking them up along Stork's arm. He shrinks away from my touch, stiffening up with such a silly expression on his face I can't help but laugh again, throwing my arms around his bony shoulders to hug him tightly. "And what even happened? I can't remember a thing about leaving the cave, and I must have gotten into a _serious accident_ ," I rest my free hand on his chest, feeling the smoothness of the large metal X he has plastered there. "If you're so worried about me…"

"Ack!" he says, trying to pry my hands off of him. "Guh- gi-gi-guhh! Piper, c-cut it out! No touching! Nnnugh!" He shudders, eyes closed in horror. "Are you high or something? You're high, aren't you? Th- the Merlop was- d- d- _goik_!" his ears twitch and he squeezes his eyes shut.

I laugh again. "Aw, Stork, you're so sweet. You were worried about me, weren't you?" I wait for him to respond but all he does is make various noises of distress. Boring. Snuggling closer to the merb I plant a soft kiss on his cheek just to see him squirm a little more. "You act all nervous and afraid, but if you really didn't care you'd shove me away right now." I'm speaking against his ears, his cute, long ears. "Right?"

"S-stop, please," he stutters, yellow eyes rolling around to search for some form of escape. "This- this isn't funny. This isn't f- f-funny at- WHOA!" he yelps and jumps out of my arms with violent force when I nip at the edge of his ear. He rubs at it furiously, dark green face turning even darker as the blood rushes to his face. _"Control yourself, woman_!"

"Hmph." Angry now, I cross my arms and defiantly look away from him. "I don't see what the big deal is," I say. "And you still haven't even told me what happened back there in the cave. How'd I get back? Why was I injured?"

Stork is wordless, for once.

"Well?" I demand. "If you don't speak up soon, I'll be forced to kiss you for real this time."

His ears stand straight up. "I'll speak, I'll speak!" he says, holding his hands out to keep me at bay. "It's just… I'm not even sure how to explain it."

"How about you start from the beginning and work your way up from there?" I suggest, already wondering if there was a way to surprise hug him again. Stork takes a deep breath and starts talking, telling me everything that happened. I listen with a smug sense of security in myself this uninhibited happiness. But as the narrative continues, the facts of his words drain away my giddiness like a sobering slap to the face. When he gets to the part at where I am unconscious and he is fighting Cyclonis- Cyclonis!- I am well in body but the exhilaration is gone, the effects of the drug are gone, and I am deaf to the rhythms of the engines and motors of the _Condor._

For a drastic, tear-filled moment, I want to run back into my room and stuff the whole plant down my throat so that I could go there again, back to the real _Condor_ , but with the loss of the drug came the loss of my mindless, cloudy drifting. The sharpness of my senses are replaced once more with my higher mind, the calculated precision of my common sense and human mental boundaries.

But the fear…

"Did you kill her?" I have to ask, looking back up at him with eyes somewhat more focused on the important details. Stork shakes his head "no" rapidly, throat bobbing. It's still a little hard to think, but more and more I feel my old self fighting to regain its power. It's frustrating. "So then…" I look around me, half expecting her to pop out of the walls. "Where is she?"

"…Are you…" he gulps. "You're not going to hug me again… a-are you?"

"Just answer the question."

"She's in Starling's room. I… I locked her up in there." He points, points to the empty room we had decorated just for Starling. It had been collecting dust for a while, the lilac paint fading more each day as it became more and more obvious that the Interceptor would never set aside her purple shield. "I mean, there was nowhere else safe enough."

For some reason, that made me angrier than I was scared. "Cyclonis is on our ship," I repeat, just to be sure. "And she's in Starling's room?"

"Well, what did you want me to do, man? Lock her in my room?"

"Forget it. It's just… What do we do now?"

The question hangs in the air. "Well," Stork says after a moment, "I phoned Aerrow. I told him more or less that we have a hell of an emergency on board here and he said he'd meet us in the airspace around Bogaton."

I blink in surprise. "Is everything already done over there? It hasn't even been a full week."

Stork shrugs. "Must've not have been such a big problem like Repton made it out to be and- hey!" He shrinks away from me, eyes lighting in sudden recognition. "Why am I even talking to you? You molested me!"

My face burns. "Th- the merlop has worn off already, OK?" I say, crossing my arms and turning away so that I don't have to look at him. "We have more important things to worry about. Like, hello, the fact that Cyclonis is in our home?"

"Nuh-uh," Stork says, making an X with his arms and stepping away. "I'm not getting fooled by that. Merlop takes longer than that to wear off."

"Well, whatever. I uh… I trust you have her shielded somehow, so…" Stork's long green face fills my vision and I jump, startled. "What?" I demand, for once being the one on edge.

"Crystals," he says. "I want you to check them out. See if I got everything all right." He points to Starling's room. "So no more excuses, get in there and make sure this ship is safe." Before I can think of a reply, we're standing in front of the doors he presses a button on the side that forces them to slide open with a roar of gears and chains.

Cyclonis sits there on the edge of the bed. Containment crystals, inexpertly scattered across the room, glow around her. She is caged in a square frame that encompasses the bed and a few feet of walking space beyond it. Their light and the shimmer of the shield is the only illumination in the room, which is otherwise dim and dingy from disuse.

It's unreal, to see her there. At any moment I expect to wake up and see that these past few days- these past few weeks- have all been an unpleasant and highly vivid dream. I want to wake up and find that it's the day of Aerrow's party, the day I had been planning to trick Stork into dancing with me.

"So," Cyclonis says to me, jarring me into my senses and ruining any chances that this might be a dream. "I see you've remodeled a bit since the last time I was here."

I don't know what to say. Think of something to say. Don't let her back you into a corner just by being. You have the upper hand here, Piper. Fighting back my fear, I tilt my head to the side and smile thinly at her. "I see you've gotten a makeover," I respond in like. "What's with the hair?"

She lifts one hand to her shocking white hair, letting the strands run through her fingers. Her eyes, though a different color, haven't really changed at all. They still regard me with soft criticism, dark humor, and impenetrable thoughts. "I ran out of black dye," she says. "Kind of hard to get at when you've isolated yourself into a teeny cave."

"You're… albino."

It was more to myself than an actual question but she answers me anyway. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? But no. Otherwise all of my exposed skin would be covered in scabs and my life expectancy would be pathetically short."

"Oh. I see. So this is just unfortunate genetics, then." I felt relieved. More relieved than I should have been if I had only been worrying about a strange mystery. And that makes me more worried. "Well, it's actually fortunate genetics, then, if you compare it to the alternative."

"Exactly. And how about you, my old friend? Been keeping up that crystal lab of yours?"

I nod, numbly, and then try to get something out of my system. "Why…"

"Why, indeed." Cyclonis interrupts me, red eyes narrowing. "Why am I even talking to you? Why am I answering your questions as though we don't hate each other? Why did you seek me out?" She shakes her head, sprawling back onto the bed with one palm draped over her eyes. "There are too many whys circling around me. This room is bright with them, but one of them is so luminescent it hurts my unprotected eyes." She props herself up on one elbow to fix me with that familiar stare. "Why the hell haven't you killed me yet?" she demands.

I bite my tongue, heart hammering. Maybe coming to see her while still a little woozy from merlop wasn't such a good idea. "Are you all right in there, Piper?" I hear Stork's voice ask from the doorway as he peeks inside, ears twitching curiously. "Is she awake, too?"

"Yeah," I answer his question, backing out of answering hers. My tone is dark. "She's awake, all right."

"With a lump the size of Atmos growing on my head from where your boyfriend hit me," she adds, resting flat against the bed once more as she gingerly presses her hand against her skull. "I didn't know you had one of _those_ merbs."

Stork growls from just behind the doorframe, probably echoing my own thoughts: Did everyone but the Storm Hawks know about Tenebria?

"We're not going to kill you, Cyclonis," I tell her at last, resting the butt of my staff against the floor. She, probably bored of me already, finds that I had left a stuffed animal on the bed (also meant for Starling) and begins to toss it into the air with one hand and catching it with the other. I try to ignore this as I speak to her in what I hope is a reasonable tone. "If we killed you now, it would be out of revenge. And revenge gets in the way of real justice being carried out."

"Right," the teen says, catching the rabbit again, eyes aimed at the ceiling.

I glance at Stork, talking to him now. "We'll get to Terra Bogaton, pick up the guys, and then escort Cyclonis to Terra Atmosia," I say. "Then we'll let the Sky Council decide what to do with her."

"Well, sure," Stork says. "If you wanna take the long way around."

"…And… and you only get one more chance, Cyclonis. If you attempt to break out of here or harm us, we'll be forced to be less than chivalrous towards you." I cross my arms, lifting my chin up and waiting for her to say something scathing. But nothing. She just smiles a crooked smile. It doesn't reach her eyes, which still regard me with some unnamable emotion, red halos surrounding endless black pits. I wonder how she managed to hide them as purple for so long- wonder if maybe she's pulling my leg and somehow smuggled a shielding crystal to change her appearance.

"All right, Storm Hawk. I promise to be a good girl in the time we're together again."

"I don't trust you to keep that promise," I say, "But until you do break it, I'll treat you kindly."

"Cool." She nods, flopping back onto the bed again and closing her eyes. It's weird to hear her say something so casual, even though she's done it before. I hesitate for a moment before leaving the room, figuring there wasn't much left to do in our impromptu prison cell. I'll extend the shield to the bathroom later, when she's asleep.

The automatic doors close behind me and I double check the locks, my mind already whirring with plans for this new development. I could take one of the cameras from the bridge and re install it in her- no, Starling's- room, and maybe one in the bathroom as well. Should I? How far was too far? How much could I do to really stop Cyclonis from blowing up our ship if she had the mind to do it? For all I knew this was an elaborate plan on her part to take all of the Storm Hawks out for good so that she could be free to rise her empire up from the ashes to its former glory.

As for the shield, crystals were dangerous. I knew she could manipulate them if given enough time, so a safeguard would have to be made. I could inscribe codes into the facets of the crystals themselves, changing their chemical makeup randomly every day so it would be harder for her to find a weak spot and break free. In fact, maybe I should do that now-

Stork breaks into my mind with his voice, low and angry. "We should throw her overboard."

"I'm not exactly a cold blooded killer, Stork," I remind him. "What we're doing is we're taking her to justice. Remember? Justice? That thing we're supposed to always uphold?"

"Hmph. Her shield is sucking up juice from the _Condor_ ," he says. "At this rate, we'll reach Bogaton by tomorrow, which is one day more than what I want her on my ship-"

"- _Our_ ship-"

"-If you had any sense of self-preservation in your head you'd dump her into the Wastelands now."

"I'm not going to kill her."

He sneers, eyelid jumping. "Oh, what? So it's all right to threaten people you've worked with for years, just not kill evil incarnate? Don't be ridiculous, you don't even-"

_Sccchlick._

He stops mid-sentence as a sick sound reverberates through the entire _Condor_. His throat bobs with a sudden nervous gulp and his ears whirl up, standing tall and erect on the top of his head. They swivel around like radars and even I find myself standing still, holding my breath. After a long moment we look at each other, the feel of my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Go on," I say just loud enough for the threat to be carried by my voice, not sure why I'm whispering. "Why don't you finish that last sentence and see what happens?"

"I just can't believe you're choosing her over me," he hisses back, lips and ears curled backward. The sound screeches us out of our conversation and causes all the hair on my back and neck to stand up just as straight as Stork's ears.

"Shhh!" he says, unnecessarily, holding up one hand for silence as his yellow eyes trail upwards, listening again for the sound. "What _is_ that?"

"Does it matter?" I say despite feeling sick with fear. It was just a noise, for God's sake. It was probably scrap flying through the air, maybe the trash of some other carrier ship. "I'm talking to you. And the way you've been treating me lately makes even Cyclonis look like a good guy. Don't expect me to be hearts and giggles when you insult and degrade me any way possible. What do you want me to think- you're only doing it because you care?"

"I do care!"

"Then why can't you say that instead of being mean? What are you, an eighth grader? You can't handle your feelings so you react negatively towards them? And- hey! I'm talking to you, Stork- look at me."

"I thought a smart girl like you would have realized this by now." He finally looks down from the ceiling at me, eyes narrowed. "I want you to hate me."

"Why?" I demand.

"You know what, I'm sick of always explaining it to you."

That makes me bite my tongue. What a hypocrite- but a frightened one. The scraping noise happens again, but I force myself to ignore it. I could feel something in the air. I'm not sure exactly what it is, except maybe opportunity. The opportunity to finally get to Stork, to get him to stop this weird game of "I-Don't-Like-You-Because-I-Like-You." To at least get him to accept me as his friend again.

"Listen, Stork," I start off, trying to calm myself and use this chance. This was a handhold, and if I could just grab it and clutch on tight enough maybe I could fix this whole disturbed mess. "I know you have some… some issues cause of what happened to your dad."

"Trust me. You have no idea," he says with a thin smile that does reach his twitching eyes.

"I'm just saying, you're completely overreacting to what happened. And from that first overreaction things just went downhill so fast…" I let my hands fall limp to my side, helpless. "You have a problem, Stork. This goes beyond the things that make you, you. It's just awful for me to watch and worse for me to be in the middle of."

"And you have worse problems, going for someone my age- with my disposition- my whole mess of a life," he says. "You were the- OK, something is definitely wrong with the _Condor._ "

 _Shhhlick_. There it was again, and not even I could pretend that strange noises weren't often a precursor to something terribly bad about to happen. "This is why I don't like anyone else handling my bird." Brushing past me, he makes his ways to the controls and flips on a few switches. "I'm taking her off autopilot to land and see what in Atmos's name is making that noise."

The _Condor_ hums with power and I felt a familiar lurch in my stomach as she began to lose altitude, monitors searching for an outcropping of flat rock to rest on temporarily so Stork could climb over the hull and see if some air trash had clung to the skin of our bird. "Looks like an uncharted Terra not too far," Stork mutters, having effortlessly stopped our conversation and putting us one step back from my goal of fixing things between us.

 _Shhhlick_.

"Yeah," I say, walking up to the great glass front window. "But once that's done-"

**Tunk, tunk, tunk, tunk.**

We both stop, jaws hanging open with shock. Up until now we had assumed whatever was bothering the _Condor_ , if there was anything at all, was either some air trash or a malfunction of her own machinery. But now, as we listen, the unmistakable sound of footsteps circle above my head, and then again that terrible sound.

 _Shhhlick_. The sound of metal scraping against metal.

"Someone's… up there?" I say, unbelieving. My eyes dart to the dashboard, where our speed is listed at 350 knots. Certainly she wasn't at full speed but the wind pressure should knock somebody right off their feet if they were openly walking around on top of our ship! "Sky Pirates," I say almost before my first sentence was done with. "They might have mag boots and are-"

A blade, glowing a bright, demonic red, thrusts down from the ceiling and tears a hole in her hull. I jump almost three feet into the air, barely managing to contain my shriek of fright as the blade is pulled out and then stabbed back into the _Condor's_ flesh, whoever it was trying to hack an opening into the bridge. A gauntleted hand reaches into the tear and pulls at the plated hull of the _Condor_.

"Stork!" I gasp. "Starboard hard- now!"

He lurches to the right with the controls in his hand- _hand_ , in his _hand_ \- and the _Condor_ follows suit, turning itself so hard and so fast that whoever it is up there loses his grip on the inside of the bridge and loses his footing, stumbling to the side.

"Now move!"

"Hold on to something," Stork advises just a little too late as he pulls a lever back and I'm hurtled to the back of the bridge, inertia pressing my back to the wall. I swear I can feel my lips flap. My eyes travel to the speedometer. 700 knots. We can't maintain this speed and keep up Cyclonis's shield for long. Even before it breaks, it would get weak and that would be prime time for Cyclonis to escape. But that Sky Pirate certainly wouldn't have been alone- he had probably been a scout sent to infiltrate the bridge and get it ready for the main fleet, who was somewhere nearby ready to pounce.

"Get ready, cause I'm going to leech from Cyclonis's shield for an extra boost," Stork yells over the roar of engines and wind rushing past the _Condor's_ frame. He's remarkably steady, still standing straight at the helm. "Whatever's out there will be left in the dust."

"Go for it!"

"On three! One- Two-"

The shattering of glass fills up the air and Stork shrieks, falling flat backwards onto his rump and scooting away from the cracked front window. That same glowing red blade is embedded in the glass, and hanging onto the hilt for dear life was none other than the Dark Ace, white teeth flashing in a full wicked smile.

"Holy Mother of Merbs!"

With his foot, Stork reaches for a lever and pulls the _Condor_ to a complete halt. I fall to the floor and the Dark Ace is launched from the ship along with his blade to fall down into the Wastelands. We only hover there, breathless and senseless, trying to gather enough brainpower to speak.

"Stork," I say, "Was… was that… The Dark Ace?"

"Yeah," he says, still on the floor with his eyes twice their normal size. "And he's not alone."

It only takes me a terrible half a second to realize what he means. I run to the broken glass to see an army of red and black hovering before us, and at the head of it all is him, the Dark Ace, floating with his jet pack wings and a smug grin on his face. My eyes trail over the armada and I find that my knees can't support me anymore. I slide down with my hands against the glass, slide down like a slug on a garden wall. "Oh God," I whisper, not because I believe in God but because if he did exist, he wouldn't have let this happen.

With his frame quivering, he gets up to his feet and presses the button to activate the radio. Static fills the air in place of silence. " _Condor_ to Captain," he says, "Captain do you copy?"

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

The dash on my skimmer lights up and from the speakers I can hear the hissing and crackling of static. Stork's voice filters through, choppy but intelligible. " _Condor_ to Captain," he says, voice wavering either due to fear or because our signal is worse than usual. "Captain, do you copy?"

"I copy, Pilot," I tell him, concentrating hard to hear him over the winds. "What's up?"

"We're… We're… please, we need backup. We need lots of backup." He rattles off coordinates like crazy before losing his voice to static. "…hear me? Can you hear me? Hello? Oh god, Piper, I think we lost them." There's a sharp breath as he panics for a moment, shouting into his end of the device: " _If you can hear me, we need help!_ "

"Stork! I can hear you!" I tap the radio again, my heart spiking. "Calm down and give me your status. What's going on? Where are you guys?"

"I- I don't think-" a dry laugh. A sharp intake of breath. "I don't think we're going to make it to Terra Bogaton. I'm sorry, Aerrow."

"Stork, tell me what's goin-"

"Cyclonian warships. The Dark Ace and Cyclonis. Everything. They're back- all of them. _They're_ _back_."

The connection goes dead.


	12. Bury The Hatchet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You love the way I look at you while taking pleasure in the awful things you put me through."

**Omniscient.**

The Dark Ace landed lightly on the hull of the flagship of his newly resurrected armada. Pulling a thin wire from his belt, he attached it to the ship and there was a recognizable pop of speakers being switched on. He turned now to the lone carrier ship, the _Condor_ who held the potential Fifth. When he spoke, his gravelly, menacing voice reverberated through the skies.

"Hand over the girl, Storm Hawks," he said, holding the mouthpiece to his voice amplifier like a weapon. "That way, I promise your death will be quick and painless."

There was nothing but silence from the _Condor_ who floated with her nose turned stubbornly up and her wings poised to fly. The crew didn't say, "And if I don't?" because the answer was obvious in the unspoken threat hidden in the Dark Ace's voice. The crew didn't prepare for the last stand, or blast away with a flare of blue engine flames. The "crew," in fact, at that moment was composed of a merb and a human girl.

The human girl had her back to the great glass window, and the merb was about to die.

**OoOoOo**

Cyclonis had one arm wrapped around Stork, pinning his arms to his side.

Breathing hard, with a trickle of blood seeping from a re-opened cut in his forehead, Stork's eyes searched the room for a way to escape the jagged edge of the crystal held against his neck. Again and again they sought out Piper, frozen at the helm and unable to do anything without putting him and the ship at risk. The three were at a standstill of indecision and shock- shock at the return of the Dark Ace, which provided ample enough distraction so that Stork never knew the girl was behind him until it was too late.

So here they both stood, Cyclonis' back to the wall and Stork's back to Cyclonis, knees weak, pressed so close he could feel the hummingbird pace of the teen's heart in her chest. Or perhaps it was his own heart, thudding sickly loud inside his chest. Piper gripped a lever that controlled the booby traps to the _Condor_ , lips lifted in an animalistic snarl of hatred.

"Don't. Move." Cyclonis said, one blazing red eye visible as she hid behind her hostage. Stork could feel her hot breath against the back of her neck as the former Empress spoke. Piper paused for a moment before stepping away from the controls, standing with her feet spread and both hands held out. Whether it was a gesture of peace or to ward her away was uncertain.

"How did you-" she tried to start.

"Shut up!"

She cut her off in the most effective way possible- by lowering her sharp crystal and stabbing it deep into Stork's shoulder. The Storm Hawk caught his scream before it left his lips but couldn't hide his pain completely, letting slip a small sob as he clenched his eyes shut and turned his head aside, stiffening up and biting his lower lip. He kept his silence. So did Piper.

When Cyclonis spoke, her voice was filled with nothing but scorn and blazing, indignant anger. "Did you really think a crystal cage could hold me?" she demanded, wrenching the raw crystal free to press it against Stork's neck again. He gasped, mouth opening in a silent refusal to give Cyclonis the pleasure of his cries. "If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll bring Stork and this whole ship crashing down into the magma pits. And believe me, your crystal controlled engines would fall quickly if I felt so inclined." She laughed; quick, curt, and very afraid. "You know I could… That's why you're standing nice and still like a good little girl, am I right?"

Her tone lowered, murmuring directly into Stork's ear so that only the pilot could hear her. It sent a jolt down along Stork's neck to his belly where it congealed into heart-pounding dizziness. "Well?" She asked. "Am I?"

Stork opened his eyes to stare belligerently at the roof. Jaw clenched and set in a familiar, stubborn pose, he seemed ready to martyr himself. His shoulder ached- throbbed- burned, but he had been cut before. He wasn't a stranger to pain, especially not physical ones. "D-don't do anything she says."

"Do you _want_ to get stabbed again?" Cyclonis wanted to know, the bloodstained crystal proof of her willing capacity for violence. "Because I know I don't want to be handed over to the Dark Ace any more than you're willing to hand me over." Cyclonis stepped back and dragged Stork with her, closer to the dented metal wall of the _Condor_. "I'll provide ample distraction, and you will follow my orders to escape. Drive straight down into the Wastelands and then fly back up- breach the cloud line five kilometers West of here." She pointed with her bloody crystal in the right direction before returning it to menace Stork's throat. The merb couldn't help but notice it was one of the same crystals that was supposed to be keeping the former Empress locked up in Starling's room. So much for that.

Piper dared to remove her eyes from the pair long enough to glance in the direction Cyclonis had indicated. "There would be ships scouring the place, even over there," she argued. "How do I know you aren't just leading me to a trap where you can join your friend?"

There was another tense standstill, nothing but the distinct absence of sound- except for outside, where the waiting armada hummed with the power of a hundred idle engines. The blood from the cut in Stork's forehead gathered above his eye, threatening to fall in and painfully blur his vision. But then it trailed off, circling around the organ to dribble down his cheek and drip to the floor. There was a substantial puddle by the time someone broke the silence.

"…Isn't it obvious? The Dark Ace wants nothing more than to murder me," Cyclonis said at last. Her smile was thin and humorless. "I'm trying to save my own skin here- surely you can understand that sentiment."

A strange change seemed to come over Stork at those words; he even started to resist a little bit. "Well, if he's gonna kill you, seems like I have nothing to lose by staying here and letting him collect." Stork's grin was viciously happy.

"He'd kill you too," Cyclonis pointed out, holding one arm around his neck and pulling to keep him silent. He gagged and was subdued once more, a prisoner to his own fear. "So why don't we act like the civilized, sentient beings we are, and call a temporary truce?"

It might have been Stork's imagination, but he could have sworn he felt the pulse of Cyclonis's heart jump just a bit faster. Before Stork could think of anything to add to the conversation, Cyclonis pulled the blade away and shoved him forcibly from behind, pushing him into Piper's waiting arms. He stumbled forward like a dumb animal, not comprehending what had just happened until he was jarred to reality by his body ramming against hers. Unthinking, almost as a reflex, he squeezed her as tight as his screaming shoulder would allow and pressed his forehead against the top of her head, hunched over her. Then he realized what she was doing and pulled away, his mutilated right hand resting on her shoulder, still covered in a few bandages from the wound he had received from the garastons. Still touching, but not as close.

"Are you OK?" she asked him at once. He couldn't answer, looking down at her with amazement in her eyes.

"Yeah," he said, unable to look anywhere else. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Huh-?" Piper's face crumpled with a confused and worried frown. "What- no you're not! You're bleeding all over the place!"

Stork suddenly remembered then the cut on his head and the gaping wound in his shoulder. He winced as all the pain came rushing back to him and pulled his hand from Piper's shoulder to hold one hand to each wound, aching all over from the pain. "Ouch, ouch, you're right. I'm not fine- my shoulder could get infected. That's just begging for amputation, death, or other forms of similar dire consequences." His ears shot up and forward to emphasize his deadly point as he listed off things that could go wrong. "Then it won't matter what the Dark Ace does!"

Almost on cue, they heard his ghostly voice again, rumbling across the air waves to send collective shivers down their spines:

"I'm waiting, Storm Hawks," he said. "But I won't wait forever."

Cyclonis waved her arms in the air to get their attention. "All right, birdies," she said, sharp voice brooking no arguments. "I tried the whole "being fair" thing, so do you think you could quit it with the "staring into each other's eyes" thing long enough for me to save all of your worthless hides?"

Stork and Piper jumped apart, both of them wondering why they had ignored the threat Cyclonis posed to them for so long. She stood with her arms crossed and her long white hair hanging loose over her face, chin lowered defensively as she glared at them with the bloody crystal still in her hand.

"Are you going to honor this truce idea or not?" their enemy said. "Because right now it's the only option I see... No matter how distasteful I might find it."

Stork and Piper shared one more look. It spoke volumes, not all of it in a language fully decipherable or translatable. But what they both knew right then was that there really was no other option but to put their trust in Master Cyclonis. Letting loose Stork, her bargaining chip, surely said a lot about how desperate the teen was right now. Stork became suddenly aware of all his little scrapes and bruises, all dealt by Cyclonis. But in the end, all he could do was nod mutely in assent.

Stork's hunched posture straightened abruptly, yellow eyes twitching. "Again, how do we know this isn't a-" he started, but Piper grabbed him and shook him as if to try and knock some sense into him.

"Either way we'll die, Stork. Do you want to die?"

Once more, the Dark Ace's voice floated over them. "You have two more minutes to give me Cyclonis before we kill you all, the fun way."

"Must be really desperate to get his hands on me untouched," Cyclonis muttered. "He's never this patient."

"….Crap." Stork groaned and closed his eyes, head tilted heavenwards with both his hands grasping his ears and yanking them down in frustration. "We're doomed. Which doom is the less unpleasant?"

"The one where we actually act as if we have a chance of living," Cyclonis said, reaching out with one hand. The palm rested upwards, waiting expectantly. "Are you in or not?"

After a moment of consideration, Piper gripped the offered hand. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised to know that Cyclonis had a firm handshake, a rough swing downwards and then back up again. Cyclonis smirked.

"Not what I meant, but sure."

"Huh?"

Before Piper could react, Cyclonis let go and snatched her crystal necklace, ripping from the cord that held it around the Storm Hawk's neck. "I'll be needing this, Piper."

"Hey! That's-"

"Going to save our lives," Cyclonis finished. "Do you have any maps of this area?"

Piper swallowed, her eyes darting to the necklace only briefly before rising up to meet Cyclonis' pink orbs. "Y-yeah," she said, running to the planning table where she rummaged around in the cabinets for the right charts. "You have something in mind? Some sort of plan?"

"A plan?" Cyclonis echoed, following her to the table where she was spreading the map along, weighing it down on the corners with various crystals lying about. "Well, it's haphazard, but the only thing that comes to mind when I feel what crystals you have on board." It was a credit to the situation they were in that curious Piper didn't pry exactly what Cyclonis meant by 'feeling' the crystals, instead nodding rapidly and sketching out coordinates onto the fringes of the map, relaying them to Stork.

"Yes, yes, this should work…" she muttered, pale fingers running over a spot on the map. Piper blinked at it and shot an incredulous look at Cyclonis, but it was ignored by the former Empress. "Five kilometers west of here should be a small unpopulated terra." Cyclonis spoke fast, not even stopping for breath, her pale face looking up from the map only to be sure everyone was following her. "It's almost like a coral reef for airships, riddled with holes caused by the constant winds and fine sands scraping away at it for years. Unstable to the extreme."

"We know the place," Stork said. "Should be on the maps."

"When I give you the signal, make for there fast."

"So that's our plan?" The merb said, moving towards the helm to get the engines ready. "Hide, run, and hope for the best?" Once at the helm, he looked over his shoulder at the two crystal experts, trying his best to ignore all his various injuries even though the stress he had been through somehow reopened his right hand again.

"We're dealing with impossible odds," Piper admitted. "She has a plan, and that's more than us right now. This… this really might be our last…" she breathed, but didn't finished what she wanted to say.

Her silence was more profound though, causing a small shiver to run along Stork's spine. The expression on his face was an odd mix of trepidation and delight, and you could almost see his pulse jumping fast from adrenaline. He faced the window again, hands clenching the steering wheel tightly. "What's the signal?" he wanted to know.

Cyclonis's lips split in a leery grin. "The gigantic explosion."

The three were outnumbered, merely teenagers in face of an army the world had only dared dream in nightmares. The three were enemies, clashing personalities and warring sides of a battle from two years ago. The three had no plan but a half-cocked crack dream one in a million chance of living to see their next birthday. At that moment, though, the three locked gazes and they were in sync, a fighting force and a single unit to be recognized.

And right then, those three were the only crew members the _Condor_ had.

**OoOoOo**

"Shockers, boomers, cloaker, enzyme, mag boots?"

Piper nodded, holding up a pink stone in her hand. "Plus one doppelganger, for an extra twist. My own invention- I'm sure you know what it does by the name alone."

Cyclonis did understand, but for reasons Piper couldn't know yet. She was actually taken aback by the pleasant surprise; let her eyebrows shoot up into her fringe of solid white hair and a smile to grace her features. "Very nice," she said. "I like the way you think."

"You gave me the idea with that stunt you pulled on me two years ago."

There was an involuntary pause as they both remembered, glancing at each other only to avert their eyes when tangerine and albino pink gazes met. "The, ah," Piper coughed, continuing. "The copies are only paper thin, though," she warned, holding her index finger up sternly. "And they don't last very long. And I've never tried them on so big a target-"

" _Can you guys hurry up_?" Stork's voice shouted from over the _Condor's_ intercom. " _Our time's almost up_!"

Not needing further prompting, Cyclonis took Piper's hand and dragged her to one of the emergency exits that led to the roof of the ship, hiding her share of the crystals in a bundle as Piper tried to hop into the mag boots while running for her life across the windy top of the stalled _Condor_ , hovering gently in the airs above nothingness and endless clouds.

Then she finally had a chance to look around, crouching partially on the back of the ship she called her home. With the twilight sun filtering through dusty clouds to give the whole quadrant a faded, golden glow, she saw for the first time how effectively surrounded they were. Not content with blocking the cardinal directions, the Cyclonian armada was even hovering below and above them, cannons bristling and ready for action. The winds kicked up, loud in the threatening silence as it blew against them; Cyclonis stood next to the Storm Hawk, her long white locks wildly flapping like the proud banners of a nation at war, while Piper's short midnight blue ruffled like so many bird wings in flight. The hum of a hundred engines had become one with the air now, no longer really registering in the two girls' minds as an actual sound.

Then, there was a loud crack of lightning striking from the sky- red lightning in the form of a man returned from the dead, slamming into the hull of the ship with such force his boots made a crater in the old metal and he was forced on all fours for a moment before he regained his normally impeccable balance. He was only a few feet from Cyclonis, and didn't waste time. Striding over to her and grabbing her upper arm, he yanked her along away from Piper towards the edge of the ship. Piper hurried away, scurrying with her tail between her legs to crouch at another spot, get up and move to another spot, wash rinse and repeat.

Cyclonis still managed to be bitterly sarcastic, even when stumbling along behind a man twice her size. "What, gonna save me for later?" she asked. "Waiting for a better time? Or maybe the locale just isn't doing it for you? You need a full moon and ancient ruins for your regicide, is that it my dear servant?"

"I serve the real Cyclonis," was all the Dark Ace had to say on the matter, unfurling his wings once more. He pulled once more on her arm, pulled too hard. She winced, exclaimed in pain, and her face flickered once. Pale flesh turned dark, and tangerine eyes glared with malice.

The Dark Ace stopped, staring at Cyclonis with his eyes wide. He let her go so suddenly she might have been a poisonous snake, retreating backwards to reach over his shoulder and draw his blade, lighting up the air around him and making it sizzle with blazing red power. "You're not-!"

"No duh," 'Cyclonis' said, tossing the enzyme crystal high into the air where it exploded in a white shockwave of energy, spreading out for yards. Where it came into contact, reactions formed with explosive consequences. The shields changing Piper and Cyclonis to look like each other reverted them back to their normal forms. The real Cyclonis had been free to strategically place all of the boomers and the shockers nearby. When the shockwave reached them, the devastation ensued.

Boomers shot off in every direction, with more force than any regular boomer should have had. A few dozen unwary ships were caught by the blasts and fell with their sirens and red lights flashing, yet no crew members deployed parachutes to escape the burning wreckage. They stayed as the ships went down, nothing more than resurrected puppets the Dark Ace, with his terrifying new power, reanimated to serve his purposes. Other ships managed to swerve away or set up their shields, but that didn't save them from the second barrage.

The Enzyme crystal still floated in midair above Piper, pulsing regularly with white bursts of light. The Dark Ace raised his blade to blast at it, but the girl rushed forward, whipping out her energy staff and knocking his feet out from under him. The Dark Ace was a seasoned warrior and was soon back upright, though, and turned his menacing glare on Piper. With murder in his red eyes, he charged at her just as the second barrage began the second most important phase in Cyclonis and Piper's plan.

The second wave of throbbing light reached the shockers. Cyclonis ducked and covered her ears as a screaming pulse of gold electric energy rocketed its way into the sky so fast the sound reached their ears a few seconds after it happened. The amazing power Cyclonis invested in the ordinary crystals warped more than two thirds of the remaining armada, which was only minimally damaged during the first wave of attacks. The power short circuited their systems, and those that didn't go spiraling downward in a glorious rain of burning metal were shut down for a few precious seconds that let the third and most important phase of the two girls' operation to come into affect.

The Dark Ace had frozen in apparent terror and disbelief, paused in the act of striking at Piper. His red eyes took in all that surrounded him, his reanimated and supposedly invincible armada wiped away in an instant. She took advantage of it to send a shock of her own coursing into his body with the crystal she had equipped to her staff. The former most loyal Cyclonian screamed, dropping his blade with his arms and body contorted from the pain, eyes rolled back so that only the whites and the stark red veins were visible in his gnarled, distorted visage. This was when the third stage was complete, and the next pulse from the enzyme crystal came into contact with the shielders. The crystal, being the catalyst needed, plunged them into immediate effect, enveloping the whole _Condor_ in a shield that blocked them from all human eyes.

From the moment Piper launched the enzyme crystal to the point when she stabbed the Dark Ace, ten seconds had passed. The Dark Ace fell to the floor in a crumble of overloaded nerves, his synapses out of sync with the sudden blast of electricity and his muscles twitching erratically. Squashing any respect for life she might have had, Piper forced herself to lever him off the ship and dump his body into the Wastelands. When his heavy form rolled over the side she switched on her mag boots and fell to the floor with a trembling sigh.

Hopefully, the Dark Ace would stay dead this time.

Stork stood at the helm inside the _Condor_ , smirking at the sight that greeted him through the cracked front window. Cyclonian warships fell in an apocalyptic rain, turning the dusty sky a bloody hue of red. It was the most heart warming signal he'd ever seen. Laughing under his breath, the merb yanked back a lever at the control panel and sent his bird soaring down into the Wastelands. Ducking around burning debris and the warships that remained, he gradually pushed the _Condor_ to full speed while up above him, Piper and Cyclonis worked on the last stage of their plan.

The Enzyme crystal's pulse was weak now, its light flickering on and off. As the winds intensified around them, Cyclonis and Piper clumped over to the dying crystal, feet securely stuck to the hull of the ship by their mag boots. They stood on either side of it, pale light illuminating concerned faces.

"One more reaction and she'll burst," Cyclonis noted. "But we don't need to do that. My plan worked just fine without your addition. You can have the enzyme back now."

Piper shook her head, reaching into her utility belt to pull out her rosy pink doppelganger crystal. Even though the waves reached it, no reactions occurred even if she shook it and banged the two together. For a moment the two glimmered but not for long, and the enzyme resumed its rhythmic, dying waves while the doppelganger stayed mute and silent. She made a noise of disgust. "Forget it. It can't start another reaction even if I wanted it to."

Cyclonis tore her eyes away from the enzyme. "Of course it can," she said. "You still have a lot to learn about crystals, apparently."

Her anger flared, despite the situation. Even as they descended into the Wastelands with the whole world falling around them, she couldn't stop herself from arguing with the former empress. "Oh yeah," she drawled sarcastically. "Because you know everything."

Cyclonis's lips curled up in a smirk, which only further infuriated her. "Listen," Cyclonis said instead of continuing to bicker, "There's a way to get some extra juice out of her, but it means destroying the crystal itself. I'm being polite and asking you if you don't want to save it still, since enzymes are pretty rare." She made an elegant, sweeping motion with her hand and bowed from the waist. "As a fellow scientist and collector, I understand your predicament."

"Crash it," Piper said without hesitation. "We need all the help we can get."

"Good," Cyclonis said. She plucked the crystal out from the air. "Cause I was gonna do it any way."

"Wh- You-!" Piper clenched her hands into fists, gripping the doppelganger tight enough to hurt her palms against the angles of the facets. "You're an evil witch, you know that?"

"Please." Cyclonis was focused on the enzyme crystal now. It lay in her open palm, quivering for a moment before lifting up against gravity and hovering over her hand. "You can't try to insult me by throwing my good qualities back at me. That's like me saying I don't like you because you're pretty. Which, now that I think of it, is actually a pretty common thing for girls my age to dislike each other for. But what would I know about girls my age?"

The enzyme's bright white light was dazzling as it lifted once more into the air, blocking out all other conversation with its loud humming power. Piper felt the doppelganger being pulled from her grasp and let it go, watching it float up towards the enzyme. The white stone didn't pulse anymore, instead seeming to concentrate all its power within itself, waiting for the right moment. The doppelganger also glowed, shedding pink light to dance over the girls' faces and meld with the pale enzyme. There was a flash as the two met- Piper and Cyclonis lifted their arms over their eyes, squinting against the blinding light. When it dissipated and they dared to look up again, around fifty identical _Condors_ were zooming off in every direction except where the real, invisible _Condor_ was headed. The remaining armada- around forty well-armed warships each containing Talons waiting to be unleashed on their Switchblades- could have scattered, but the Cyclonians were battle-hardened soldiers. Or, they had been in life. It was uncertain what they were now, or if they even could be called Talons anymore.

Stork almost groaned when he heard a painfully familiar voice screech through his microphone.

"Open fire!" The Dark Ace ordered and the air was split with the sounds of cannons bursting behind them as the merb guided his bird to the deadly Wastelands. Above him, Piper and Cyclonis activated their mag boots and stomped their way back to the emergency exit, fighting against the increasing wind pressure as Stork gradually picked up speed.

"Let's hope that keeps him busy for a while…" The dark green merb said to himself.

"What does it take to kill this guy?" Piper shouted over the winds.

"Cockroach-like tenacity runs in my family. That, along with our albino appearance, is the unfortunate result of years of inbreeding," Cyclonis answered without skipping a beat. "He came back from the dead, didn't he?"

"But that's-"

"Impossible? Not really." They reached the exit just as the sharp, choking smell of the brimstone from the magma pits below began to filter up to their noses. "Improbable?" Cyclonis coughed as a magma vent shot a plume of smoke in their direction, embers flying like burning hot lightning bugs. "Surprisingly, not that either. At least, not when you consider the end of the world has been a long time coming."

They hopped down the hatch and landed with matching heavy thumps as their mag boots brought them to the ground hard.

"What did you just say?" Piper asked.

"I said: The world is ending," Cyclonis repeated, slow and clear. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall of the _Condor_ as if she belonged there, as if they weren't enemies, as if it was the most normal and casual thing in the world. It irked Piper so much for reasons she couldn't really fathom, but all she knew was that Cyclonis got on the wrong nerves. "The world's been ending for a while, really. It's just the time of the Harbingers has- Hey now…" she stood up straighter when Piper made a menacing move for her staff. She didn't back off or try to make herself less a threat, instead bristling and getting ready for a fight. "What about our truce?"

"I know better than to trust any deal you make, Cyclonis."

"You can call me Lark, you know. Cyclonis isn't Cyclonis without a country to rule."

"And now you're trying to catch me off guard so you can take advantage of me." Piper pulled out her staff in a synapse-fast movement, the red end of it glowing dangerously close to Cyclonis's face in their cramped quarters, stuck in the passage to the emergency exit. Cyclonis slowly backed up against the wall but Piper followed, her face a hard mask. "Just like last time. Well this time, I'm wise to your ways."

And despite the single trail of nervous sweat making its way along her face, Cyclonis managed to let her lips twitch upwards in a smile. "You've gotten smarter."

"Stop flattering me so much, it's annoying."

"I can't show admiration for my rival and almost equal?"

"I'm nothing like you. You're a criminal," Piper said, concentrating the tip of her spear against Cyclonis's neck. It was almost a repeat of what happened on the bridge, but this time the tables were turned. "And you're going to pay just like any other criminal. Maybe you think you're special, but you're not. Talented, yeah, but that doesn't give you some sort of divine right to do the things you've done."

Cyclonis lowered her chin, smirking upwards at Piper like a coy school girl. But her words were anything but innocent. "And I'd do it all again if I had another chance."

Piper forced her head up with the point of her spear. "That's why you're not getting another chance."

Their matching glares could have burned the airspace between them if they were able to keep it up longer, but a crackling sound of static startled them out of their private world of vendettas, bruised egos, broken trust, and shattered innocence. Stork's voice floated through the _Condor's_ intercom.

" _Piper? Are you all right? Did you get back inside the ship OK_?"

"I'm fine, Stork," Piper said without looking away from Cyclonis. "Just apprehending our star guest."

" _She pulling anything funny with you_?" The protective note that crept into his voice was barely audible over the bad speaker system, but it made Piper smile anyway.

"Situation's under control," she answered. "But we're going to need another way to hold her." It didn't need to be said that a crystal cage couldn't contain Cyclonis.

" _Hey, ropes might be old fashioned but I'm pretty sure Cyclonis can't make them explode. I need a test subject for my new knots, anyway_." The sadistic laugh that blurted through the speakers was almost disturbing.

"Savage merb," Cyclonis muttered under her breath. Piper jabbed her for silence and she sullenly obeyed.

"See you at the bridge," Piper said as the intercom went dead. "All right, now move. You heard the Merb, it's time to see how you looked when all trussed up." She jabbed at Cyclonis again, but the spear head stopped abruptly before making contact with her pale skin. Piper's eyes widened in shock, a reflex movement. It was all she had the time for before her red striker crystal ballooned out into a sphere of energy, blasting into the dark-skinned girl and sending her crashing across the short space in the hallway. Her spear flew out of her hands and before she knew it Cyclonis was there, looming over her with her very own spear gripped tightly by long white fingers.

"Good God, you're retarded," Cyclonis laughed. "What part of 'evil genius' don't you understand? Is it really that hard to grasp that I have control over every single crystal known to man and them some?" She tossed the spear aside, ripping the red striker crystal from the tip and making it glow in her hand. A red miasma spread from it and took the shape of a great witch's hand, gnarled claw-like fingers wrapping around Piper's body and thumb pressed over the unfortunate girl's mouth to keep her silent. The hand picked her up, wriggling, off the ground and closer to Cyclonis so that they were eye to eye. "It's human nature, though, to underestimate what you don't understand."

"Nmmver fuffimitch!" Piper's tangerine eyes blazed with anger, narrowing over the hand that muffled her voice.

"What's that?" Cyclonis asked, cupping one hand around her ear as Piper continued to swear violently, struggling against her constraints. "You want me to let you go?" Cyclonis tilted her head to the side curiously. "You want to be set free, is that it?" Her tone grew hard, mouth twisted downward. "Well, that's what I want too. I want to disappear. I want to get as far away from my blasted family for as long as I can manage. You understand that. More than that, you understand _me_ , don't you Piper?"

With the back of her free hand, Cyclonis reached out to Piper. Despite herself, the girl flinched, closing her eyes in anticipation of a blow but felt nothing except cold flesh running down her cheek as Cyclonis caressed her with sadness in her albino eyes. Piper inched her eyelids open in disbelief, unable to help a muffled question escaping her trapped lips. She swallowed a lump in her throat, trying to shrink back from fierce pink eyes but there was nowhere to go.

"You think you're the heroes of this story?" Cyclonis asked her. "Well, you're not. Atmos is spiraling downwards, my friend, and you're at the head of the pack.

"Your star will die."

Then she twitched, violently, jerking back and up to her feet and out of Piper's personal space, thank God, with a strangled, "N-n- _no_!"

She clutched at her head, eyes closing in pain, and the hand around Piper shimmered and flickered like an old movie about to die. Piper didn't exactly notice that, though- she could only watch Cyclonis reel about the cramped hallway in agony, falling against the wall and sliding to the floor and getting back up again, one half of a conversation that (Piper began to realize) was with...

"Not again..." Cyclonis whimpered, over and over, each time growing louder until she was shrieking. "Not again. _Not again_!"

... _Nova_.

"Not again, Nova- _Never_ again!" she said, furious and wild, her eyes wide yet unseeing. "When I kill her-" she pointed at Piper then, glaring at the girl in hatred. "It will be because _I_ want to! You don't control me, _ghost_! _Monster_! _Usurper_! Not anymore- never _again_!"

And with that last defiant scream, she fell to her knees in front of Piper, gasping, reaching for the girl's neck with her shaking hands and grabbing on tightly. A wet, strangled noise fell from Piper's mouth when Cyclonis increased the pressure and then began Piper's last struggle for life. She bucked and kicked but to no avail, and just when the edges of her vision went black and everything grew quiet- yet not quiet. Piper could smell something, like the spicy tang of merlop and other flowers she didn't recognize. And a sound-

_I can..._

_I can hear children laughing..._

Her lungs burned for air.

But when she tried to step over that black, fuzzy border between this world and the garden Lark let go of her neck with a gasp, as if she were the one who had been strangled, switching her hands to Piper's face and pulling the girl forward… in a savage kiss.

Cyclonis' lips were the softest thing Piper had ever felt.

And very cold.


	13. Hear Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm sick with apprehension I'm crippled from exhaustion and I dread the moment when you finally come to kill me."
> 
> "They carved a message deep within our broken hearts that failed to mend: Make out kids never had a chance to be best friends."

**A/N** : Every one of the OC's so far have belonged to me except for Rave, who belongs to 7blackcat13 and who very politely asked for Rave to have a cameo.

With that, I leave you to the chapter.

**OoOoOo**

**Junko.**

I suck in a huge breath and scream so hard my face hurts. Flying in loop-de-loops and tight figure eights, through my squinted eyes I can see Aerrow, Finn, and Radarr holding their hands against their ears. Their mouths are moving, but I can't hear if they're complaining or complimenting my traditional wallopian call to battle, but right now just isn't the time to ask questions. I mean, come on, even I can tell that.

So I ignore them as they try to interrupt me.

"What are you doing, Junko? We've gotta go!"

"Junko, quit it! Stork needs us!" Finn grabs my arm, stopping me just as I stopped to swallow some more air and prepare for a triple barrel roll. I blink a few times, confused and maybe a little angry, but it takes a lot to get me angry so I'm mainly just confused. Taking his small white hand, I'm careful not to hurt him as I pry his claw off of my upper arm and place it at his side.

"I'm calling for backup, Finn," I tell him, talking slow since he obviously didn't understand the importance of my actions. He stares at me like I'm dumb or something, big blue eyes wide and empty. I smile, just now realizing that they probably didn't understand what I was doing. But I know that the sound of my voice probably carried pretty far, and wherever there's open sky, there's bound to be...

"Look," I say, pointing over them to the distance where a small blue fleck stood out in the dying light of the setting sun. The fleck slowly got bigger and bigger as the distance closed between us. Engines chugging out smoke like my grandpa used to with his sky-shark bone pipe, a huge war galleyresponds to my emergency call, just like I knew she would. She gains on us scary-fast for such a big ship and when she's only two dozen yards away with no sign of stopping, the three of us scatter like small birds before her big blue sides.

An empty bottle of nettle juice is tossed from an open window, clipping Finn's wing and jarring his flight for a moment, almost causing him to crash into Aerrow who had to dodge out of the way to avoid a full on collision. "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!" the blond human yelps like a scared puppy. He looks up to the window, shaking his fist and looking ready to shout every obscenity under the sun when a big face juts through. His skin is dark brown, darker than mine, and his hair is chopped off messily at his ears. His hand is cupped around his mouth to amplify his deep voice, which is so loud it makes my bones vibrate under my skin like tuning forks. He's a true northern wallop with an accent in his voice thick as cottage cheese on a bagel.

"Och, if it ain't ae wee gleep-boy Ah've lang missed!" he says with a big grin on his face. "Mah crew hayrd ye wailin' aboot soome emergency. Whit's ailin' ye, Gleep, if ye doon't mind oor askin'?

"Our friends are in trouble," I tell him, wondering exactly at who he is. I'm pretty famous among Wallops for being the "Gleep" who became the strongest Wallop wrestler in the Atmos, but he could be… well, just about anyone really. All I know is that the blue uniform and the ginormous ship could only mean one thing:

Giants.

He smiles, resting her chin in the palm of his hand. "An' ye wee 'uns need oor guns, aye?"

"Lots of 'em," Aerrow says, picking up pretty easy. That's cool. Not a lot of people understand northern wallops when they hear them for the first time. "Has your squadron ever fought against Cyclonian warships?"

The wallop laughs. "Laddie, ye know no' wi' whom ye speak, tho' Ah certainly know ye." The wallop puffs out his chest, letting out his breath in an ear splitting roar. " _Ah'm Gogo o' the Gogo Giants!_ " At a normal, if slightly slyer tone, he adds, "S'ye could say Cycloonians be mah _specialty_."

A blue and white streak rushes by my face and before I know it, there's a girl I've never seen before standing on the wing of my skimmer, slinging what looks like a skateboard over her shoulder. She must be a Giant since she's wearing their sky blue uniform, but I can't see her vehicle anywhere around. Then I notice the engines on the sides and bottom of that skateboard of hers and realize it's a top of the line hover board used in extreme sports. Finn likes to watch that kinda thing on the TV when it's his turn to use the remote.

Crouching down so that we're eye level, the girl's lips twist in a daring smile. Her teeth are long, thick, and sharp, like tiger fangs. She's definitely not fully human, but sure isn't a Wallop. "If there's Cyclonians, lemme at 'em!" she says, one hand on her belt where a professional steel slingshot is attached.

"Rave, whit do ye think yer doin', lass? Git yer skinny arse oop an' movin'!" Gogo shouts down at the girl. "Auld Bandag has been needin' soom target practice, tell him there's Cycloonians whit be wantin' tae be blasted oot o' tae skies! Aye, an' any oother crews ye find along tae way! Git ae whole coven o' tae bastards ready an' willin' tae slay yon rowdy lot, ye ken? Gawn! Git gooing!"

"All right, all right, all right!" Rave claps her hands over her almost Merb-like long ears, pressing them flat against her face. "No need to yell, I'm not friggen deaf!"

"Ah'll have no cheek out 'o yer mouth, lassie!" Another bottle rockets from the ship, barely missing Rave's head. The girl yelps, ducking quickly. "That'll teach ye to speak saucy wi' yer captain! Noo gawn!"

Growling curses under her breath before straightening up, she tosses her board to the side and hops onto it. Rave zooms off in the direction the _Alley_ had come from, purple flames exploding from what are probably custom engines and soon she's out of sight, hopefully to get more reinforcements.

"Noo, where am Ah headed, wee Gleep?" Gogo wants to know, resting one elbow on the window frame and grinning at me. I give him the coordinates and he retreats back inside the ship. Throughout the whole steel frame I could hear the pounding of his footsteps as he made his way to the top, where the steering wheel most likely was. Speakers blared.

" _All hands on deck! Oor Cycloonian friends're oop tae their auld tricks again, och, an' ae righ' bloody welcome Ah've got planned for 'em when mah_ Alley _catches oop_!"

**OoOoOo**

**Cyclonis.**

Here, so far from the stronghold and center of Cyclonia, I haven't been bothered much by the Voices. In Atmosia I've discovered a blessed silence that, for most people, is a God-given right. Here, I can at least somewhat control what I do, and not fly off into a blind rage of anger. By this point however their presence has already leaked into my own psyche. Sometimes I can't tell if I dislike something because Lark dislikes it or if it's because my great-grandfather holds a distant grudge. Still, I didn't actively hear them anymore since I took the coward's path and hid myself from the eyes of the world. The last thing I expected was to hear them now- hear him. In the beginning, even in Cyclonia, the Voices had only manifested themselves in moments of extreme danger, stress, or otherwise important to the future of my empire. When you hear the voices of all your ancestors screaming at once, you _obey_. You obey or you are driven mad. I was good at my job, though- they didn't bother me too often, unless I called upon them to give me advice.

But they spoke now, chillingly familiar and alien- my estranged family members. I looked upon Piper, my rival, helpless, and the Voices roared in my mind with more force than a tidal wave.

_Kill her._

I don't know how I resisted them today, when I had never been able to do so before. Two years of training in silence and solitude certainly helped, but so did the fact that I knew there was no logical reason I should kill Piper. Their noise was just noise to me, strange and cold white noise that did me no favors.

And louder than all the rest was Nova.

Emperor.

 _Go ahead and kill her,_ he said to me. _It'll only be a temporary death- I know how fond of her you are, Skylark. I can bring her back for you-_ we _can bring her back, just like we did with Immer. Everything will be as it was- you and me, me and you, ruling side by side the way we were meant to be._

 _Screw you,_ I told the Voices, and deliberately did the most intimate and friendly and non-violent action that popped into my mind. I kissed her. My first kiss, I'll admit, though I've always suspected my first kiss would be with another girl. I like girls. They're softer than boys.

The Voices fall into a sullen silence, and I am rewarded with Piper's warmth on my lips. But then it's all ruined, because she bites me. Not in a sensual way, in a way that hurt. Of course, there was no other way for her to fight me since she was all tied up, now was there? And Piper never just rolls over when there's a fight for power. I suppose in my foolish fantasy I thought she'd accept my kiss like a good little girl and stay out of the way until I escaped. Taking a few steps back with my hand to my mouth, I pinch the wound to try and staunch the bleeding. It's a hard battle to resist the urge to slap her for her disrespect.

"Hmm," I say instead. I do my best to clean my face on my sleeve. "Not what I was hoping for, but not entirely bad for a first kiss. I didn't know you were in to the whole pain and pleasure combo, Piper."

I'm waiting for something, for some sharp retort. The bite of sarcasm is the one I am used to receiving from her lips, but they are pressed thinly together to keep her silence. There's blood on her lips, too, but it's my blood. It's a small splash against her chin, and her staring eyes say she's more than willing to rip open my throat as well. This is a dangerous game I'm playing- I've never seen such a pure hatred radiate from Piper's face before. It turns her naturally dark aura into something closer to the shade of midnight even though her lips are also quivering in an effort to keep from crying. Hah. God, I've never felt more like the bad guy than right now.

"What?" I laugh derisively, a soft snort through my nostrils as I raise my head up. "Are you upset with me, birdie?"

"You're _sick_ ," she spits, literally. A wad of my blood is hurled from her mouth with a disgusted noise.

"That's nice of you to say," I reply humbly. I suppose it's just proof as to how long I've been cooped up in that cave that I can't come up with anything funnier. I grab her chin again, force her to look at me. "What did you do with my staff after you captured me?" I say, demanding her cooperation. Pressing my fingers into her skin tightly when she doesn't respond, I shake her head from side to side. Her dark skin turns white under the pressure of my fingernails. "I've tried civility to get you to help me, Piper. Even though we should be working with each other, you have to be stubborn and refuse me. Now there's nothing left except violence."

We're both crouched, her pressed up against the wall by my red energy cage. She's trapped, the only part of her able to move is her neck and head. So I press her cheek against the wall of the _Condor_ , my fingers full of her midnight blue hair. She looks out at nothing, her eyes unreadable even to me.

"Help me," I say against her ear. "I'm asking you nicely, Piper."

Piper doesn't say anything. She doesn't even look at me.

Fine, then. Be that way.

But I can't bring myself to do it.

"My staff," I repeat. "I need it. I know you have it."

She spits on my face. This time, there is no holding back. In a rage, I slap her with all of my strength, letting her head whip to the side with the force of the blow. I hit her with the back of my hand. My ring catches her cheek, slicing it open, and I stop at the sight of her blood.

"You're an _idiot_ ," I tell her with my shaking hands reaching for her discarded staff and standing up. I want to turn my back on her crumpled form but I find I cannot. "And it's obvious you have a high tolerance for pain."

"…Go to hell," she says, turning her face from me, pressing her bleeding cheek to the wall, blood and tears and sweat all melded on her face.

I grip her staff tighter, standing straight and proud with my chin lifted up. Tossing the red striker crystal that held her captive down on the floor, I set her free. The red cage around her bony body evaporates to nothing, the fingers of the energy hand brushing against the wounds on her face before they die.

"Oh yeah?" I say, holding the staff defensively across my chest. "Let's see if we can't do just that." Twirling it once in my hands, I shift into a fighting stand with the tip pointed towards her. It's a lighter staff than my imperial one, not meant for heavy bludgeons to the head and body so much as disarming your opponent or knocking them down. It's such a difference that characterizes everything that makes Piper my rival. Her unwillingness to kill. Her passive nature that hides under a bossy know-it-all behavior. And yet look at her now, how easily I broke her with harsh words and a slap to the face. Is Piper really so weak? I either have been away too long to judge or judged wrong to begin with.

"Come, attack me," I say. "Never say I didn't give you a second chance. I give you far more than you deserve."

"…Why?" she asks, getting to her feet with one hand against her face. Such a burning anger. Maybe I am wrong and she can kill me here and now and end everything. I wonder if that would be for the best.

I roll my eyes towards the ceiling. Depressing thoughts really don't suit me, so that brief moment of _hell, let's just get it over with_ is gone and I'm reminded of my drive to live another day. "Because I feel like it." Have ruthless dictators ever really needed another reason? Without warning I lunge at her with my stolen staff. To her credit she's still a slippery little mink even with an arm that's probably killing her from when I stabbed her earlier and countless scrapes and bumps from our various stand offs. Every time we do fight I hope that this, this at last will settle things and Piper will bow at my feet where she belongs or bring me to my knees and complete the defeat she and Aerrow started two years ago, whichever one happens is what we both deserve. My staff clangs against the wall- these cramped quarters make fighting difficult. It's darting, back and forth and nervous glancing at each other.

Are you going to move? Am I going to move? Am I going to twirl around and bring this down on your shoulder- but no, she dodges that too and brings her leg up high and her foot connects with my cheekbone. My vision is stars but that doesn't stop me, shifting back to defense until the world stops spinning. The hallway is noisy with exclamations of our shouts and the jarring sound of metal against metal of my staff hitting the old dented walls of the _Condor_ when I miss. If Stork doesn't realize what's going on from his safe place at the helm, he'll certainly soon notice our absence and come bring his meddling Merb nose into things that don't concern a salamander like him.

Whipping around to follow her, I slice the staff through the air again but she ducks under my snake-quick movements and falls to the floor, launching up and forward with her good side to tackle me. We don't quite fall to the ground but she's knocked me off balance. Shoving her aside, I drive the butt of the staff to her throat. Haha, nice one. I step back to let her recuperate even though as she backs off and wheezes like a nerd with asthma I could finish her with nothing more than my bare hands.

"This isn't very fair," I find myself saying, collapsing the staff into a small tube. Piper's invention, such a handy tool so easily toted around and concealed. I toss it now over my shoulder, able to see the reflection of my snarling grin in her orange gold eyes. There. I clap my hands like I've just handled something filthy as Piper simply stares at me, utterly confused.

"Since when… have you cared?" she challenges me hoarsely, rubbing at her sore throat. I find that my own head is aching from when I had received and elbow to the head, and my upper arms were probably going to be covered in bruises later from all of the kicks I had barely managed to deflect from places where they could have done more damage. We're both a mess of blood and sweat, and tears in her case. I don't cry.

I act offended, putting a hand to my chest. If she thinks her words really bother me, though, she has another thing coming. "Are you… insinuating… that I use… unscrupulous methods… to get… what I want?" The effect of my words is lessened by the fact that I'm gasping them, so out of breath I'm ready to collapse.

"I'm not… _insinuating…_ anything." She rips her fingerless gloves from her hands with her teeth to use as a kerchief, wiping at the sweat collected on her forehead. It makes me realize that stinging salt is reaching my eyes as well. It makes me realize that being fair does indeed go against my very being of always wanting to be top dog. This break to catch our breathe gives me chance to actually think rationally like I used to, and the conclusion is: I am insane.

This insanity is making me smile, though. It's making it easier to remember Lark, forget Cyclonis. Remember that there is no need for me anymore. There is no country to be responsible for.

"This is…"

Despite the danger it poses, or perhaps because I know deep down that this surprises her as much as it surprises me and she won't make a move, I double over in laughter, propping my sore and screaming body against the wall as I finally give in to exhaustion. "This is wonderful," I gasp. "The most fun… I've had in… over two years," I tell her.

There is nothing but quiet disgust in her voice. "So this is another game to you," she says in her way. The way that almost makes me feel guilty.

"Right now?" I lean fully against the wall now, shifting so that my back is against it and the heels of my palm are pressing into my forehead. This is yet another chance she could take to get the upper hand on me, but she won't. I know the insanity is getting to her too. I know how it feels to loathe someone from your very being while still admiring them deeply. "Yes. Yes, it is."

The humor of the situation, such as it were, is now lost. I let my eyes lazily float over to concentrate on her, mouth solemn and pouty. "Yep…" I sigh now. "Might as well enjoy what time we have before everything changes. The harbingers have arrived."

Slumping down, tired of fighting with her for now, I fall to the floor and sit there with my head cradled in my arms. "We're just playing now, Piper," I tell my shadow. "There's nothing else to do when faced with impossibility."

Nothing but heavy breathing, the smell of salt in the air. Then I let out another breath, shaking my head. Another, lighter sound fills my ears, like the tinkling of metal. It's a jet black ring rolling across the floor, a steadfast little wheel that slows to a stop at Piper's feet. Had I done that? Judging by the empty space on my right hand where the ring had once inhabited, I would say yes, yes I had.

"Keep it," I say, intertwining my own fingers together, rubbing them nervously. "It's valuable so if you break it, I'll kill you."

She nudges the ring with the toe of her boot. "What's this- some sort of apology? Thanks but no thanks, Cyclonis."

My anger flares. "It's a gift, my name is Lark, and I never apologize- to anyone. I certainly won't start with _you_."

"Right." She throws her arms up in the air, frustration etched in her black face. "And you know what else? You're effing _bonkers_."

Bonkers. I don't think I've ever heard it described that way. I can't help a snort of laugher, covering my mouth too late to try and fight it. "Just take the ring, all right?" I say around giggles. "It's an- an apology. Happy now? Can we start up the truce again? We're not safe from the Dark Ace yet, you know."

"I don't want anything to do with you," she says stubbornly, crossing her arms. " _Especially_ not after what you just pulled. You're like a ticking time bomb."

"My birdie can't handle it when the big girl plays rough?"

"Shut your mouth, you pervert! You _kissed_ me. I never knew you were…" She has a hard time getting past the word. I wait with my eyebrows raised, twirling my hand impatiently and motioning for her to continue with what she's going to say. "…Gay."

"Piperrrr…" I drawl while rolling my eyes, smiling sardonically. "I can honestly tell you, right now, that I am not gay."

There's a punctuated silence from her end. It's heavy and sad, almost visible to me, pulling down on her shoulders stronger than gravity so that she's forced down, sitting opposite to me in the cramped hallway. "Just another game to you, huh?" she says, not so much disappointed as just plain tired. Tired of me and my insanity bursting in on her carefully controlled safe environment.

"Oh yah," I say. "And you're the most fun game of all, Piper dear. You, my misinformed friend, may not be a criminal like me, but you're nevertheless setting Atmos on a course to destruction. Your star is already dead."

Deep orange eyes seek mine, now unafraid of looking right at me, not colored by embarrassment or tension. "I've heard that before," she says, "What does it mean?" She's almost back to normal now after our brief dip into the chaos of two years of lost emotions. Now she's curious and curiosity leads to happiness. For her, anyway.

"Hope," I explain, not sure why I was explaining, but maybe thinking that this will help me curry her favor again. I can see she's interested. "It's… just that mine has been dead a long, long time." That's what makes us so different, I think. Even though hers has been dead it's still shining. I don't know how she can do that, but I know it's not sheer naiveté. She understands this world well, I can see it in her eyes.

I look down at my nails. Some are long as claws, while others are chipped away from years of my teeth tearing at them without mercy. "But you're still blind to the date when the end of that light finally reaches you."

"And the harbingers?" she asks, inching closer to me. Her face is close to mine. Has she already forgotten what I do to people who get close? What I do to innocent little girls like her? She's always so bipolar, one second street smart and the other so… so _trusting_.

"People like the former Dark Ace," I answer, sickeningly eager to please, not to mention hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the Storm Hawks have a shot at succeeding where I failed. Impossible though that may be. "Returned from the dead by a powerful sorcery known mainly by merbs, illicitly shared with my ancestors long ago. They're led by an individual named-"

"Nova." Her voice is flat and unsurprised.

"So you're familiar with my other brother. What a pleasant turn of events."

"I should be shocked that you're related, but all things considered it's pretty obvious."

"Yep. Him and I never got along, though. He's quite _bonkers_ , you see."

That provokes a dry smile from her and she sits back. "That doesn't explain everything."

That was true enough. "Think about it this way, birdie. If someone you loved came back to kill you, would you be bursting with joy? What about someone you hated? Someone who could-"

I stop, on the verge of telling her more than she needs to know. Her tangerine eyes focus on me again, sharp and piercing, and I know nothing is getting by her. She knows there's more to it than just the shock of reanimated family members.

"Nova has more powers than bringing people back?" she asks.

"…Not unless he has me." Shit. I told her. Not everything, but more than I should have. I bang my head back against the wall sharply, causing her to jump. "But you're going to kill me anyway, so make sure you ask Stork exactly how to burn my body afterwards so he can't do anything and you can kick his ass for me, all right?"

"We're not going to kill you," she says half-heartedly, because not even she believes her words.

"Yeah, you're not." I snort. "But when all of Atmos finds out I've been captured, they're going to-"

"Lark!" I'm shocked out what I'm going to say next by her grabbing my shoulders, shaking me roughly. She looks pissed, whether at me or at this whole situation I honestly can't tell. "Would you _stop_ already? I'm not going to let you be killed. Storm Hawks aren't murderers. We believe in.. in…second chances."

" _We've reached our destination, ladies."_

Stork's voice. I feel a rush of fresh hatred for the Merb, for ruining my time with Piper. No one should interfere with that. Looking up at the speakers, I resist the urge to smash them to bits. I think Piper might have forgiven me for my straying away from my normal path of cold logic already, and trashing her house might not be a good idea when my standing here is already so fragile.

Better to ask and get it over with.

"Are you going to tie me up and turn me in?"

She turns her face away from me, pulling back. "Yes," she says. She picks up the ring and gets to her feet. I follow suit. Standing in the hallway again, she reaches out to me with her palm up. Resting in it is my ring, offered back to me. "But I'll let you go with dignity- without tying you up- if you promise to follow orders without another incident like this again."

"I promise," I lie. "Technically, I only broke out that first time to stop the Dark Ace, remember? And of course we can forget about this incident just a few moments ago… right?" I look at her expectantly and after a moment of perturbation and embarrassment she nods. It's terrible how easily she trusts me, slipping the ring back over my finger when I refuse to take it from her.

"It's a gift," I tell her, but I don't move to stop her. "You'd be insulting me if you gave it back, friend."

She looks up at me, still holding my hand. Compared to my icy skin, she's positively glowing.

She lets go of my hand. "We were never friends," she tells me, walking past me through the cramped hallway back towards the helm. The sound of engines and her footsteps- I close my eyes for a moment, trying to see what was it about this ship that let me block out the voices.

And I can see it- see _them_. This ship has a lot of sadness inside her walls. I can hear it- hear _them_ \- and most of it seems to be centered around her.

Her and her merb.

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

Oooh, this is bad. Gulping back a nervous lump, I gingerly steer my bird around swarms of sky sharks, all blissfully oblivious to us under the shield Piper and Cyclonis erected. This place is on our maps for a reason, and it sure as hell isn't because it's a noted tourist trap. It's more like a noted… _trapping_ trap, for unwary pilots. Finding an opening, I steer the _Condor_ into a large cave that seems relatively uninhabited by sleeping sharks and land her down, shutting off the engines and collapsing back onto seat, one arm thrown over my eyes.

"Hey."

"Eek!"

I shoot back to my feet, striking a fake Sky Fu pose defensively at Cyclonis, who stands before me with a thin smirk lifting up the corner of her mouth, arms crossed and chin held up high. I glance over at Piper accusingly, but she only shrugs.

"It seems that in the time being, we're going to be partners, Storm Hawk," Cyclonis says to me. "So why don't we start fresh while we're at it?" Extending one hand over the empty space between us, her smirk grows bigger. "I'm Lark. The pleasure's all yours."

Cyclonis being anything other than sadistically angry is creepy as hell.

"Hmph."

Cyclonis brings her arm back to her side and walks past me towards the cracked front glass, pressing her nose against it to look outside. "What's our situation look like, Stork?" Piper asks me, sitting down on the edge of the meeting table with her legs dangling loosely.

I find it hard to keep my eyes off of Cyclonis, so it's no surprise my voice sounds a bit distracted. "Ummm, we're, um, kind of… I mean, there's no Talons around but the, ah, there's a hella lot of sky sharks and…"

I lower my voice. "I've got the rope in my room," I mutter to her, my eyes darting from Cyclonis to my door and back again. "Pin her down and I'll run and get it."

"Stork…No."

"Then can you please tell me why the hell she's running loose around my ship?"

Oops. Too loud. Cyclonis looks over her shoulder at me, one eyebrow cocked up. "Because we're working together for the time being," she explains to me, slowly. "Remember? Truce?"

"Yeah but-"

Piper's voice sounds oddly intimidated. "It's a truce, Stork," she tells me, hands fidgety on her lap. "And so far she's kept her word."

"Yeah, so far!" Standing up, I back away from them both towards the exit, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief. "But in the end, you know she's just going to-"

"Stab you in the back?"

I hear a displacement of air. The scream of air rushing past metal, and the burning smell of ozone. Red light fills the room and there's a ripping pain across my back, forcing me forward down on all fours, shouting in pain and surprise. A boot connects with my gut before stepping over me like trash, clanking hard against the metal straight towards Cyclonis.

The Dark Ace switches off his cloaking crystal, his smirk mirror image to the one Cyclonis had been wearing up to that point. She looks up at him now with true fear in her eyes, backing up against the glass wall. "How-?"

"You are our Fifth," he tells her, clapping a hand over her mouth for silence. "You'll never be able to hide from us, Lark. You can't run from your _destiny_."


	14. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I used to long for broken bones, I used to long for a casket to call my own. I never had a problem facing fear, but I'm done, over and out my dear."

**Stork**

His head turns, speaking to me now.

"You Storm Hawks will be left alone. We simply want her. Stay still and you will not be harmed any further."

Against all reason, with only the misplaced hope of the Dark Ace keeping his promise, I stay still on the floor. Not that I could have moved anyway, not without bursting into tears of pain. Ooohhh ow ow ow ow… why am I always the one getting stabbed and bullied around? There's a crash near the table and my head shoots over to see Piper on the floor as well, a blond human tying her up with my rope, binding her tight. The woman finishes the final knot with a jerk, making Piper wince and gasp.

We've been completely blindsided. In nothing more than a minute.

"Go."

The Dark Ace's voice is harder than I ever heard it in life, no rage fueling it. Just… something cold. And deadly. He grabs the back of Lark's neck when she doesn't comply, dragging her along and ignoring her protests.

"Immer!" She says, voice almost cracking in a panic. I've never heard her panic. Never envisioned her as the type to lose herself to fear, but here she was with it making her eyes shimmer. "Immer, _wait_ , please- you can't do this. No…" She straightens up, resisting further, a new steel entering her voice to replace the young girl's fear. Now she was the Empress again, rage entering her whispering tone. "You _won't_. I _forbid_ it, Dark Ace!"

"Lark, you are no Cyclonis anymore than I'm the Dark Ace. Your powers are useless. Now stop fussing and go along quietly, so that our brother may see you."

She pulls herself to a full stop, glaring up at him. "I _am_ Master Cyclonis," she tells him, glaring him in the eye. "You can't suddenly take that away from me now that that bastard's alive! _I am your_ _Queen, Dark Ace_!"

"Damn, this girl's right full of fire, ain't she?" the blond woman says with a laugh, walking up to the Dark Ace and slapping him on the back. He glares at her out of the corner of his eye and she sobers up some, clearing her throat nervously. "Must run in the family."

"Kitten," he says in a dangerously low tone. The woman snaps to attention, right hand rising to her forehead in a somewhat mocking salute. "See that the Merb is securely fastened. I don't want him escaping."

"Sir yes sir, commodore commander lieutenant general-man _sir_!" she clicks her heels together with an impish smile and prances over to me, rope in hand. I shrink away from her at first but a smack to my head puts all thoughts of rebellion out of it. She pulls the knots too tight, cutting off my circulation. My ears feel like they're permanently pressed against my head, quivering with the knowledge that Merb ears are easily torn right off the afflicted party's head. Sounds are accordingly muted, as is my vision as I clench my eyes shut in fright. The woman named Kitten ruffles my thick green hair, making me shudder.

"Aw, just look at him, Immer," she says with a coo in her voice. "The poor bastard's shakin' like the last dead leaf on tree in winter. Tugs at my heartstrings, that."

"He's a lot more interesting with a weapon in his hands," says a sickeningly familiar voice, someone new standing near the doorway. But I can't place it, for all that I try to. I don't event want to open my eyes at this point, in case I see something I really don't want to see. In case I'm wrong and I _do_ know the owner of the voice.

"Hmm," Kitten says, hand on her chin as she examines me from head to my six toes. "Your anatomy is so strange for a Merb, even considerin' you're from Tenebria. Hey!" she snaps her fingers in a sudden epiphany. "Maybe you're not even a Merb." In spite of myself, my eyes pop open, heart hammering, sweat leaking from every pore. I keep my gaze trained on her and my body shakes with new dread.

"Per'aps…" Her teeth are bared in a smile, and when I see they've been filed to sharp points I want to die. "Per'aps you're part human? You do look _so_ familiar, kid…"

She only has one eye left, the other probably ripped out in some vicious battle years before. But her solitary blue eye brightens with another epiphany as she leans closer to me, making me feel as though she can see right into my filthy, _filthy_ half-blood veins. Her voice is a taunting, vile whisper.

" _On your father's side, eh_?"

I can only stare at her in shocked terror, trying to swallow a nervous lump in my throat but my mouth is dry as dirty rags. Everything I had struggled to keep secret for so long laid bare by this stranger. _Everything_.

"Heheh… I'd love to see what ya look like all sliced up. I've never dissected a half-breed before."

I see her hands reach for me again, nails like claws. Everything is going fuzzy, fuzzy from blood loss and mental anguish and bloody shame.

"Hey! Keep your paws off him, Kitten. Snowfire is too good to be just another one of your experiments."

My eyes swivel over to the indignant speaker- a girl. Not Piper.

Olive.

Oh, my god.

The only feasible explanation for this is almost too terrible to consider, but I've always known something like this would happen. My sister could only be a _zombie_. I try to shout but what comes out is more like an asthmatic wheeze. My dead sister wiggles her fingers at me in a greeting while I contemplate how I'm going to shoot her in the head if I don't have any sort of projectile. But there's always fire. Fire is good. "Hello again, Snowfire- and goodbye. Forever."

Th-that's too sentient to be a zombie.

"You two, cease your babble." The Dark Ace seethes contempt, I can feel it even from where I lay, too petrified to move. "Olive, take Lark while I set the bomb." Olive… What the Dark Ace is saying doesn't even register in my mind. Everything is so unclear I close my eyes to protect my mind from further damage. I don't even feel pain anymore. Luckily, Piper is still thinking straight.

"You- _bomb_? You said you'd leave us alone!"

I finally open my eyes as Piper speaks in an outrage, voice blazing with anger. She struggles against her bonds much more than I can, since I'm bleeding my life out here. I'm just lucky the Dark Ace doesn't seem to have injured my spinal chord- but apparently walking will only be the least of my concerns with this recent development. I take in a breath to speak but I'm cut short when Kitten shoves a gag into my mouth, fingernails trailing lovingly along my snout before pulling away.

Olive does the same to Piper what Kitten did to me, cutting off any further resistance. Blowing me a kiss, she yanks Cyclonis along by the arm. When the former Empress resists, Olive proves herself to be just as violent as she was in life and far less patient than the Dark Ace, striking Cyclonis on her temple and knocking her out for the second time in less than forty eight hours. The girl crumples into nothing, nothing but a girl after all's said and done, and probably dead.

"She's lighter than me," Olive says with something like amazement in her voice, hefting Cyclonis over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. It looks a bit awkward, since Cyclonis was taller than the pygmy. "She's so weak, are you sure she'll make it through death alive? Excusing the oxymoron…"

"Your head was lopped off, wasn't it?" Kitten drawls, thankfully drawing away from me. Her hands twine together behind her head as she walks, a casual care-free position that doesn't belong in such a tense environment.

"True," Olive agrees, smiling thinly. "Well then I'm sure little Immer here will do her just fine, just like he did with me."

Kitten grinned at this. "Sho is! Immer goan _waaaaave_ those healin' hands over his sister, this boy is!" Her own hands shoot straight up like a devout at prayer time, waving from side to side wildly. "And the divine right of the Harbingers'll bring her back to us, without a scratch to show she'd passed! _Hallelujah_!"

"You're a freak," is Olive's only comment, but she looks as though she's fighting back laughter. The Dark Ace is less than amused, brushing past the two to exit the _Condor_.

"If you're done fooling around, we only have ten minutes to clear the area before it's reduced to rubble. And Kitten-" he stops to jab one accusing finger in the blonde's direction, mouth twisted into a scowl. "Don't you- _or_ Olive- ever call me Immer again. That name is dead. Just like me. Just like _all_ of us."

"Fine by me, darlin'." Kitten follows behind him like a loyal duckling, hands clasped behind her back as she hovers over his every step.

"Ruin all the fun I get out of this second life, why don't you," Olive mutters, taking up the rear.

**OoOoOo**

Out of the corner of my eye I can see it. A small black box, deceptively small for what undoubtedly will be a very large explosion. I can see Piper, wriggling towards the table like a deranged worm, grunting with effort but thwarted by the simple fact that she can't stand up to reach for it. I don't even bother moving. Burning with shame, my back aching with fresh wounds and my hand throbbing from a slightly less fresh one and my heart aching from the continuing betrayal of the girl I used to love, I _can't_ move.

I hear Piper cursing bitterly around the rags in her mouth, just as beaten as I am.

I don't care so much that I'm going to die-

(No, scratch that. I'm _terrified_.)

-I just wish the _Condor_ and Piper didn't have to go down with me. She- the _Condor_ \- has survived over a hundred years. Dozens of squadrons before us have flown her. Two (including us) broke the air speed record of the world. My eyes mist over in a brief moment of elation, remembering that day. My bird had pulled through for me just like she always did. Tears of joy turn cold hard as I realize that she'll die because of me, too. Not even die, because a ship doesn't have the luxury of forgetting anything. Her scrap will haunt the airspace around us, singing her song that only the patient can hear.

This is all my fault. If only I had just made Piper _listen_ to me. Any sort of romance between a Merb and a human spells disaster. It's just plain cursed. But she didn't. She _never_ listens, not the way she needs to. She just couldn't be content with being friends. She just had to get in the way of my happiness, of what little sanity I clung to.

Wait a minute, damn it! _What_ happiness? What the hell did I have before I saw her there at the meeting table, just a girl? Just a girl who grew up like a skinny little weed in front of my eyes? Damn her! Damn _me_! It's my fault for ever even considering her love, those days we were left behind on the _Condor_ while the guys went out on some adventure. The way she proved how mature and silly she was, the way she knew everything and yet nothing, the way she seemed so innocent and then not so innocent. She broke through my mental shield to get close to me and I had loved every second of it, masochist that I am, a slow torture that sent shivers down my spine. And it was more than that- more than the fact that I knew she was attractive by even Merb standards. It was a spirit thing. She was like Olive before she died that first time by my own hands, before the madness and the jungle took over her and she became like every other savage Merb I've had the displeasure of knowing.

But what can I do now? Nothing. I can't save her, I can't save myself, I can't save the basis of the sanity I reclaimed, my blessed _Condor_ , my salvation, my sanctuary.

There's nothing. Nothing anyone can do. My eyelids find themselves closing again, feeling everything slipping away. This is my second brush with death because of that Nova character. I'd heard it said that the third time's the charm, but I guess…

"Hey, there aren't any Cyclonians here!"

The voice is accusing, causing my eyes to flutter open hazily. Two figures- one very large, the other not so much- crowd in the hatch. One is Junko. The other is a girl I've never seen before. My heart races in panic when I see her hair is shockingly white (white hair has _not_ been a good omen recently) but a few moments reassures me that this time, that's not the case.

I spit out the rags in a sudden burst of energy, deliriously screaming as I writhe around on the ground, bound like a pig for slaughter. " _We're saved!_ " I've never been so happy to see a Bangledon- or whatever that girl is. She looks at least half-Bangledon, or Tiger Folk.

Then I remember. Everything I cherish is about to go up in flames. Bouncing on the floor, I ignore ripples of pain along my back and wriggle faster than Piper had towards the table where the bomb lays. Piper herself is making noises of alarm, having not yet been able to spit out her gags.

"Eh?" Junko says, grey eyes sweeping over us. "Why are you guys all tied up? Don't you know there are Sky Sharks all over the place?

"Umm…" The tiger girl takes a few steps back, long striped white ears folding flat against her skull. With one free hand, she gently began to pull a confused Junko backwards. "We'll come back later. I think we walked into something a bit _intimate_."

"Oh, shut up!" I snap at her, bouncing just out of reach of the bomb on our meeting table. "Get- That- Thing- Out- Of- My- Ship!" I grind out with every mad hop even as unwilling tears of pain course down my cheeks. Junko scratches his head in confusion and I growl, rolling my eyes in exasperation. "The bomb!" I roll around, closer to Junko's feet and land with my ruined back to the floor, leaking eyes seeking his. "The bomb!" I shout again, knowing how mad this must look and not caring. "The bomb, the bomb, the _bo-o-o-omb!_ It's gonna blow this place to smithereens!"

"We only have seven minutes left!" That was Piper, somehow managing to get past her gag as well. "Quick, Junko- throw it into the Wastelands!"

"I got it!"

The Bangledon girl rips a hover board off her back, tossing it to the floor and revving up the engines with the bomb under her arm. But when she tries to explode out the front door she slams straight into nothing, coming to a halt as if she had run right into a solid wall. Red light shimmers faintly in the door opening before fading to nothing. A force field. In the distance I can see the engines of her hover board still moving, growing fainter and fainter as the seconds marched on.

"Ai-yeeee!" the Bangledon whimpers as she sits on the floor, holding the black box out in front of her with both hands. "I.. I think I know what this is!" she says, tucking the box under her arm and fumbling around her dark brown utility belt for a remote control. She beeps a few buttons and the hover board flies back inside, loyally resting at her feet. "There's a sensor around the ship that prevents this thing from going past a certain domain!" Testing it, she ran the opposite direction from the door to a side window. She doesn't even make it that far, running slam into another field of energy. "Damn!" she says, pounding against it with one fist. "Anything carrying or somehow having contact with the bomb can't get out of the ship!" she says, panic sharpening her voice to a high, scared pitch.

The Bangledon turns to face us all with a grim expression, setting the box down on the floor. "Then it sounds to me like it's time to abandon ship!" Hopping onto her board, she gently slides out the opening and looks over her shoulder at us. "C'mon! There's only _five_ minutes now!"

"But we can't just let the _Condor_ die! This is our home!"

"It's a _place_ ," the tiger girl says, ears fluttering anxiously. "It's like any other place! You'll find another ship, Storm Hawk, but you only have one life! Don't be an idiot!"

The three of us stand inside our home, Junko supporting me with a reassuring arm around my waist, one of my arms slung over his shoulder. She- the tiger girl in the blue uniform- waits outside, her yellow-green cat eyes wide as dinner plates. She doesn't understand, I can tell, so there's nothing to do but explain to her. "We're Storm Hawks," I tell her, throat rasping but words clear in the heart-pounding silence, looking up at her from under my fringe of green hair. "But without the _Condor_ , we're not the same. She's just as important as any other member of the squadron."

"It would be the same as if any of us died," Junko says next to me, his heart sounding like a rumbling jungle drum. I rest my cheek against his chest, glad for my friend to be there when I need him. Glad that someone else can talk, cause I'm goddamn _tired_.

Piper stands on her own, but just barely. Junko had cut Piper's bonds, so she stood up now, rubbing at her arms to try and massage them back to life. She's slouching, one hand pressed against her shoulder wound, which had reopened and started bleeding again. "We're staying," she says. "And that's final."

Three minutes left, by my count. "If Piper finishes the shield in time we might move, but until then…"

The Bangledon is quivering. "You guys have got to be joking," she says with a shaking voice, kicking her board up and stepping onto the ground. She runs to Piper, who had turned her back on the outsider and limped to her room, returning with an armful of crystals. She sets herself before the box, fiddling with her crystals as if she had all the time in the world, examining them close to her eye and then arranging them in a careful pile.

"Kid, quit it!" she says, hands hovering around Piper but not truly daring to touch her. "There's nothing you can do. Trust me on this one- I've seen what this bomb can do firsthand."

"If I can set up a containing device around the bomb, the damage might be lessened," Piper says stubbornly. "Do me a favor and cart some of these charts away, as far on the ship from this place as you can. Some of them are irreplaceable, you know." Junko leads me to a chair and I relax into it gratefully, my head lolling backwards.

"I'll get you something for the pain, buddy," he says.

"Thanks, man."

"Hey, Wallop! Knock some sense into your friends here and carry them out!"

Junko blinks innocently at her, standing to his full height to look down at the Bangledon. "Rave, I'd never hurt my friends," he tells her, using Junko-logic to end the discussion. "Now help Piper and do what she said." He had already gathered a large amount of maps in his muscular arms and disappeared behind the automatic doors of the _Condor_.

"You guys are _crazy_!"

She looks around her, waiting for a response. Not likely. Cursing manically under her breath, she darts to the maps and runs after Junko, returning for another load faster than you could say _Merbian Crazy Face_. "Hell, I'm crazy too," she mutters.

I can't help myself. I grin at her, seeing my reflection in her eyes. I look like something out of a nightmare, all sharp teeth and bony angles and dark predator attitude. "Well, in that case," I tell her, "Welcome to the party, Rave, and enjoy it while you can. It might just last your entire life."

Sweat gathers above her brow, and she doesn't return my smile. "Two minutes left," she tells me, still working with the crystals. "Shouldn't you move to a safer area already?"

"Nah. I'd rather be here with the blast itself."

All the maps were gone. Junko had returned to sit next to me, bringing pain relievers that I swallow dry. Piper continues to tinker with her crystals, oranges eyes strangely vacant now that she's in her zone, where nothing is important but the right combination and the chemical formulas that lay resting inside her conscious mind. Rave stands before us, taking it all in, a stranger to the madness we call normal life here on the _Condor_.

"You guys are gonna die," she says, face as pale as her hair even as a grin spreads across her face. We have that effect on people.

"We very well _could_ die, Stork," Piper sounds from her corner of the room. "Last chance for love confessions."

"Oh, please," I mutter, blood rushing to my face. "What do you think this is? A TV show?"

"Dramatic enough to be one," Junko says, voice speculative as he munches on a sandwich he found lying under the table. We're at our usual spot, only instead of facing each other we're seated with a front row view of the bomb and Piper, watching our doom like a sick movie. Wiping dust and mold from the sandwich, Junko chills in the chair next to me, one arm around my shoulder. "You guys have somethin' going on? I never knew."

"It's _no-thing_ ," I grind out, eyelid twitching.

Piper finishes. "All right- let's go!"

Junko helps me up, one hand on my back. I groan under my breath, trying to shrink away from the unwanted display of affection. "Too late now, anyway. We're all gonna die."

One minute left.

"Well, hell!" Rave storms over to us, grabbing Piper by the arm and dragging her after Junko, the fur on her ears standing on end and her muscles quivering. "If even a _merb_ ain't scared of this thing, _I'm_ sure not! I'm not about to be outdone by Atmos's weakest cowards!"

"Not very bright, are you?" I say mildly.

"I _happened_ to graduate top of my class, thanks." She nods sharply to our death, lying in a corner surrounded by a shimmering golden shield of Piper's crystals. "I _happened_ to design that very bomb you're looking at. Ain't nothing gonna stop it, not even me. I never stuck around long enough to work out all the kinks."

Thirty seconds left.

"A Cyclonian," Piper says under her breath, already tensing for a fight with the girl she had just been leaning on for support.

"Nah," Rave shakes her head, eyes still trained on the bomb; she closes the hatch door and we move further away on the ship. "Not anymore, at least."

Twenty seconds left. "This might hurt," Junko says, sounding as if he only just realized this. His eyebrows furrow together in concentration and he stops eating, grey eyes worried. He looks to Piper for an answer, as he usually does.

"It might," Piper accedes.

Ten seconds left. The box begins to sound off the last moments in loud, paranoid beeps- or maybe that's just my imagination. "Get ready, everyone," Rave says in a whisper, tensing up. I can only laugh, though I'm not sure why.

"Some party," Junko says, voice nothing but a mumble as he tosses his moldy sandwich aside, holding onto Stork now with both arms.

Four-

Three-

 _Oops. I was off by a few seconds,_ I manage to think as the shockwave hits us all.

**OoOoOo**

**Finn**

"Finn, whaddaya say to a little game of cat-and-mouse?"

We're floating in the airspace above the battle, hordes of Cyclonian and Atmosian ships under fire so heavy I can feel the heat of death on the soles of my feet. It's already well into nighttime, the sun having given up on us around two hours ago. The flashing lights and exploding ships look like fireworks. I load my crossbow and crank up the crystal controls, grinning at Aerrow through my sights. I'm aiming at his face, able to see everything down to the veins in the whites of his eyes. "I say: who's the mouse?"

"C'mon, you're not stupid."

"No, but I try to be!"

We laugh and as one grip at our controls to launch into a suicide dive right into the line of fire. Cyclonian guns target us- all of them. They all recognize Storm Hawks when they see one, having been in battles with us before, having seen the deadly blue glare of our Skimmer engines. Aerrow raises one hand, gesturing to the flagship at the center of the fray and I honk the horn on my skimmer in acknowledgment. He goes left, I go right, and we circle the flagship, firing at will on the guns, and the shield protectors, at the engine vents- flies stinging a water buffalo. Well this was a bad-ass mother buffalo and wasn't about to take our shit, so she flies forward, all her guns aiming for us. One of the shots clips my wing and I cough at the smoke, my controls growing wonkier by the second.

"I think we're the Mouse right about now, Aerrow," I yell at him over the noise of battle. He nods, sweat glistening on his face and we retreat from the ship. It follows us, so blinded by the need to finally get rid of these Storm Hawk pests that it doesn't realize we're leading the Cat to the Dog.

The _Alley_ lurches up from beneath the cloud line, rearing her head high in front of us as we take cover behind her great wings. The Cyclonian flagship falters before Her Majesty and I can't help but cackle like a mad man.

" _Say hello to my little friend!_ "

A bottle of nettle juice flies from the ship, striking me on the head. I curse my savior as loud as I can even as cannons bigger than the _Condor_ blast the Cyclonian flagship to bits and teeny pieces. "This is noo taime tae be quotin' bad movies, y'dumb prick!" Gogo yells at me from the window outside his place at the helm, a fresh bottle already in his hand. "We're at wooooor! Death tae all Cycloonians! _Yeeaaaaarrrh_!" He throws his head back and roars at the top of his lungs, making himself heard loud and clear over the sound of his engines.

Matching yells sound as three tank-like skimmers launch themselves from the Alley's hangars and the rest of the Giants show themselves, blasters flaring and crystals blazing. Shrugging at me, Aerrow joins them with his best imitation of a Wallopian battle-cry. It sounds like an off-tune opera rooster to me, but whatever. Cocking the hammer back on my crossbow, I load something special I have just for occasions like this. Hanging back with a custom gizer crystal Piper made me for my birthday, I scope out a likely target. Around two hundred yards away I see a medium sized carrier ship, home to the squadrons of Talons and their Switchblades just waiting to join the fray. Aiming for the engine duct, I let loose the gizer crystal.

Fireworks.

It erupts like a volcano, flying glass and shards of shrapnel from the hull just as dangerous to friend and foe alike. The Giants are pretty maneuverable on those Hummers of theirs, but I can't say so much for the Talons. They're even lamer than ever, and I wonder where they've been hiding this whole time. We thought we had wiped out the last outpost months ago, and recently the only thing that had been a constant nuisance were unorganized sky bandits.

Taking a cue from Aerrow, I set my Skimmer for a straight course and launch myself from my machine onto that of a nearby Talon's, landing in a three point stance on his wings with a crossbow bolt aimed straight at his face.

"Any last words?" I wanna know, my sights pressed up against the space between his eyes, ready to blow a hole in his head. The only thing is this guy already _has_ a hole in his head. I freeze, looking down at the dead man's hands to see he's still piloting the Switchblade, albeit a bit clumsily.

And then he looks up at me, one eye nothing but a bloody ruin, and the bastard _smiles_ at me before jerking his handlebars to the right, shaking me off him and sending me down towards the Wastelands. I scream, as usual having forgotten to equip my parachute.

"Yiii-aaaaaaaaaaahhhh- UMPH!"

Crumpled with my legs spread over the hood of one of the Giant's skimmers, I whimper as the tears crawl down my face, crotch sending messages of pains to my brain center. "Oooh, Mommy," I say, slamming my forehead against the hood and hanging on for dear life. The wallop flying gives a big laugh and judging by the soprano quality of the voice, it's a girl.

"I'm not your mommy, hun," she tells me. "Sorry to break the news. And do you plan on hitching a ride this whole battle, freeloader?"

"Urgh, well then just drop me off at my Skimmer, Oka-ahhhh!"

I find myself flying through the air, thrust off again only this time I land safely on the cushioned seat of my skimmer. "Thanks, Big Momma!" I yell upwards at the Wallop.

"The name's Mudkip, blondie!" she shouts back before zooming off.

A little big-boned for my taste, but hey, the lady can fly. Ok, well maybe six-feet-tall two hundred pound ladies can't really be defined as just being _big-boned,_ but still. Following her for the protection she offers, I snipe out far-ranged targets that get by her huge smashin' hammer. After a while we join up with our respective squadrons, though right now the only squadron I have is Aerrow since Junko went off with that Rave chick to go and find where the _Condor_ is.

"You know, I really wish we had this kind of help back when we weren't so famous," I tell Aerrow, watching the carnage with something akin to awe. The Sky Knight winks at me, hovering close enough to my damaged Skimmer that he can reach out and pat me on the back.

"Then we wouldn't have had all that fun. Remember?"

And yeah. Now that I think about it… I do remember. Grinning back at him, I slam my palm against his back too, locking us together in flight.

"Well ain't that cute," another Wallop says. "Are all you Storm Hawks so touchy-feely?"

"Um…" I let my arm drop suddenly, hovering a little farther from Aerrow. "Well, sort of, I guess."

Aerrow's face sports a cat-like grin, telling me that he's thinking of nothing but trouble. Before I can escape he catches me by the arm, trapping me there at his side. "Finn's been officially dubbed my baby brother ever since we were kids, of course I spoil him!" he says and draws even closer, trapping me in a big hug that almost has our Skimmer crashing into each other. He delivers a noogie to my head, pulling savagely at my blonde hair. "Right baby brother? Huh? Who loves you?"

"Aaargh!" I try to wrestle myself free. "Cut it out, you freak!"

" _I_ do!" Aerrow answers his own question. "I love you _thiiiiiiis_ much!" He lets me go only to spread his arms out to demonstrate how much he loves me, grinning devilishly all the while.

My retort is cut off by a rumbling, crashing sound outside the battle. We all stop to turn our skimmer in the direction of the explosion, seeing a nearby Sky Shark reef slowly crumbling to the ground. I swallow a lump in my throat, suddenly nervous though I don't know why.

"What was that?" a wallop hovering next to Mudkip asks. It's a little startling to see he has the same face she does- probably her brother or some other close relative. On his huge tank of a Skimmer (a customized Hummer-type with extra cannons) is his name in gilded gold letters: Mukden.

"I dunno, Mukky," Mudkip says, "But that's the same way Rave went off. You know how that girl loves makin' things go boom."

And then we spot it at the same time- me and Aerrow, eyes focused on a glittering mass that falls with the boulders and the scorched Sky Shark carcasses. The _Condor_ in all her glory is falling, a huge gash in her side where the side engine used to be. Falling, falling, and with no sign of her trying to pull up. "What the hell is Stork doing? The other engines aren't even online! The _Condor_ is completely dead!"

"Stork!" I yell in a panic, and Aerrow yells with me only he says, "Piper!" and we both rev up our motors at full power, thrusters pushing us forward but not fast enough, not fast enough, and the _Condor_ falls under the cloud line… into the Wastelands.

**OoOoOo**

**Rave.**

Surprisingly, I'm as alive as I'm gonna be. Staring up at the clouds with the stench of sulfur and brimstone clogging up my nostrils, I cough and sit up straight, glorious pain arcing through my body. Cyclonian training often took place beneath the cloud line, so I can tell by the faint light streaming through breaks in the dust that I'd only been out cold for fifteen minutes at best.

The force of the collision must have launched me from the opening in the ship that the bomb ripped out. Somehow I get to my feet, slingshot loaded and in my hands even though my kneecaps were mysteriously replaced with jelly. Or perhaps jam. Yum, I hope it's grape flavored.

….

Resisting the urge to slap myself, I hobble quickly over to the wreckage of the _Condor_. I hope I'm not the only survivor- But how could I be the only one? Those Storm Hawks are tough enough to have survived this long against my former squadron members, strong enough to destroy the bane of my life forever. I couldn't have made it out alone when these living legends were brought down by something I created. Damn those Cyclonians for haunting me even now that they're supposed to be all dead!

A roar behind me wipes all altruistic and/or vengeful thoughts I might have had. Whirling around on screaming muscles, I send a shower of crystal pellets at the magma worm rearing its head out of the pit of lava we had unfortunately crashed by. I step backwards towards the shelter the _Condor_ provides, slinging stones all the while as the magma worm shrieks at me in agitation, my crystals just so meager when compared to its cracked volcanic rock-skin. It writhes forward on its many millipede feet, jaw snapping in an insatiable hunger for tasty little tiger girls like me. I trip backwards over the jagged sharp opening to the _Condor_ , slicing open my leg and sending the worm wild at the scent. Oh, snap. My last-resort crystal is in my pouch, and now seems a time for last resorts. Getting up again, I pull back the leather strap as far back as she'll stretch, waiting for the worm to get so close there's no way I could miss. Steeling myself against the fear, my soldier training takes over and I am nothing, I am empty, I am my slingshot, I am a weapon to be used by Master Death.

The worm lunges, jaws wide. I shoot into the opening, a freezer crystal that takes it over from the inside out and I'm left with a realistic ice sculpture of a magma worm. Tilting my head sideways curiously at my creation, merely inches from my face, I smile to see that it's melting in the heat of the Wastelands. Soon all that's left is a puddle and I resume my search for bodies.

I find them- the Storm Hawks- sprawled out on the floor of what used to be the bridge.

Piper rises first, rubbing at her head and looking like shit. She's covered in wounds from head to toe, from the nicks on her forehead to the gash on her shoulder and the bruises on every exposed patch of skin I can see. A crash of metal being shoved aside- Junko looms upwards from the wreckage, Stork's body slung over his shoulder. He regards me from behind a mess of shaggy green hair, stomping through broken glass and chunks of curling red-hot metal like green grass in the summer.

"You girls all right?" the Wallop asks, rumbling voice pleasant even now. Stork groans once and he gently pats the Merb on the back. "There, there, Stork. You'll be fine."

"?" Stork slurs, head lolling from side to side as if he really were drunk. "Ohyee, musta been v-v- _vokda_. God, Olive, you shouldna done tha'."

"You mean vodka," Junko corrects him, cheerfully oblivious.

"Tha' too."

"What's the status of the _Condor_?" Piper asks me, perhaps noting that I had been the first one awake. She stumbles, props herself up against the wall, and grins at me. "And while you're at it, what kind of sucky bombs _did_ you make for the Cyclonians? I've known mosquitoes with more bite."

I let loose a shuddering breath. "Ya damn cocky kids! You must think you're immortal or somethin'!" I snap at her to hide my irritation at my invention being so easily set aside. Then I realize- hell! I just inadvertently knocked out _the Condor_! What's she being so smug about? Then a double realization- knocking out the _Condor_ and it's crew wasn't exactly something to be proud of for a Cyclonian-hating chick like me.

Junko grins at me, gently setting Stork down on the floor where he can rest. "You don't believe in carpet deism?" he asks me.

"It's _Carpe Diem_ , yo-you imba- imbecimal- im- _idiot_." Stork's eyelids flutter open and closed just long enough to correct the Wallop.

"Besides, you're not much older than us," Piper says, matter-of-fact. "And you were right there with us waiting for a bomb to go off in your face."

"That's besides the point!"

The two of them look at me, incredulous as Stork begins to whimper about infections and rotting limbs and various other diseases I'd only seen mentioned once in some of the more forbidden books at the Talon Academy. "I'm gonna see if I can't find any Merlop," Piper says at last, limping past me to the mostly undamaged other side of the ship. "I feel bad relying on it so much," she admits to me when she returns with a large purple bloom in her hands. My nose twitches and I sneeze three times in a row when she snaps off a petal. Covering my face, I turn away, crinkling my face in disgust. "Ugh!" I tell her. "It smells like you showered this room in perfume! What is that thing?"

"I don't smell anything…" Junko inhales deeply through his nose a few times, looking all over for anything that might be a source of smell. It's only then that I notice Piper is chewing on the flower, and like magic all of her bruises just… shrink. She stands erect now, stride unhampered by pain or torn muscles as she goes to Stork and kneels next to him, pressing a petal through his slack lips. His eyes open and focus on her, pupils dilating and widening without any respect for the light in the room.

"Eat it, Stork," she tells him, and my ears can't help but perk up at the nurturing, motherly tone in her voice. Stork mumbles something like a protest and she smiles at him, sardonic and exasperated and… Oddly smitten, if I'm not blind. And then she bends down, grabbing his face to angle it towards hers and kisses him on the lips, cementing any doubts I might have had. But judging by the way his eyes shoot open and his gasp for air, this was far from a common occurrence.

"…Whoa."

I look over my shoulder to see Finn and Aerrow hovering just outside the chasm my bomb had ripped in the _Condor's_ side. The sounds of the Wastelands- various chunks of tar pits and exploding steam vents along with the snarls and growls of predators- had masked their arrival until now.

 _Oh snap,_ I think in pity for Stork because he seems to be unable to voice what's so plainly written on his newly healed face. He sits up, jerking away from her with his green face so dark it seemed almost black- Merbian blushing at its finest. He might have not had ears, they were so firmly pressed back against his skull in fright.

Well, well, well.

I hear a throat clearing. The redhead- Aerrow. "We ah…" Aerrow steps inside, trying to take command of the situation even as Piper sidles as far away from Stork as she can manage. If she's blushing I can't tell, but she sure does seem a lot less cocky than she was a few minutes ago. "We, um, we all seem to be in working order, so why don't we try getting the _Condor_ into the air? This place'll be crawling with monsters if we have any more delays."

"…Yea-a-ah," Junko draws the word out with uncertainty adding to its length, unable to tear his eyes away from Stork, who still sits on the floor like a bomb victim. Well, I mean, he _was_ a bomb victim, but that's besides the point.

And then whatever semblance of attempting to act like nothing had happened is utterly shattered. Finn, stumbling backwards, manages to get over his shock long enough to point one finger directly at Stork and Piper who were very busy trying to look everywhere except each other.

The sharpshooter cackles like a maniac, his head thrown back and his free hand covering eyes filled with tears of laughter.


	15. Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're from a small town, you're gonna grow up fast underneath the lights. Down in Hollywood on the Boulevard, the dead come back to life. To the praying mother, don't worry father, let your children go. If they come back they'll come home stronger, and if they don't, you'll know."

**Rewind: The First.**

**Aerrow (Three Years Old).**

He didn't know who the men in black-lacquered armor were.

They wore red and white crosses on their breastplates, the sign of doctors and preachers, but he couldn't know if they were either. He knew that they delivered letters, but only foggily recognized death when he saw it. He didn't know much of anything back then, his chubby legs barely able to support him and motor him about his front yard where he played with his friends. Yes, little Aerrow and his adopted brother Finland and their older friend Piper would dream of flying off and ending the war by themselves so that everyone could come home and no one would die anymore. They'd play, but only when there wasn't a threat of an air raid from Cyclonians of course.

He knew that sometimes, the men in black armor would come to a house where ladies like his mom and Piper's mom lived alone, since their respective men-of-the-houses were in the war. The Sky Knights would stand outside a door, hovering like those black birds of ill omen. When they passed, hearts fluttered in fear and eyes welled up, hoping to any God that would listen that today the men in black armor would not stop to visit them and shatter their worlds.

If no one answered the door, they would leave a white envelope on the ground in front of it. If they were received, the envelope would be handed over personally. He couldn't read the letter they gave his mother. He knew it contained a name, but he couldn't know what the name inside was. All he could remember was his mother on her knees, hunched over in the dirt. Her shoulders bobbed up and down in time with her silent sobs. He was panicking, his small heart racing at breakneck speed as he put his hands on her, pleading with her to stop. The men in black armor left her there, apparently finished with whatever grim business they had come for. Their job was done; the ruins left in their wake were not their mess to tend after.

Words like poison.

"Mommy?"

She grabbed him so suddenly it hurt, holding his small body close to her chest and crying into his vibrant red hair.

Only… only it wasn't red. Aerrow didn't always have red hair, did he?

Did he?

He began to cry too, because he didn't understand why his mother rocked back and forth so frantically and this endless river that flowed from her luminous green eyes. He could only say it again, voice hitching.

" _Mommy_?"

Her words were thick, dying. "My boy," she said, rubbing her hand along his back to feel that he was there. "Oh, my boy. Aerrow- Oh, God, Aerrow. I love you." Then she dissolved into more tears and didn't let him go, let him whimper in fear and confusion and cry plaintively along with her until Piper's mom found them like that, saw the letter, saw the tears, and led them inside.

After that day, his mother never spoke another word. Not a scream or cry ever left her lips from that very moment until the day she died, listless, of no apparent reason other than death. He had been ten.

He found the letter when he was twelve years old, already well on his way to becoming a Sky Knight, already a better dog fighter than most of the adults he knew, already with intelligent and strong friends who could build a Skimmer from spare parts and equip her to kill. The letter was smudged, torn, and tattered from years of misuse- It was all he needed to know. Not that he hadn't already known, ever since he was old enough to comprehend the grief of a broken heart and an empty space where his family should have stood.

… _regret to inform you… perished in the line of duty…_

With the letter he found a photograph of his mother and a man with vibrant red hair. Though she wore the signature purple of an Interceptor and he the heavy breastplate of the renowned Storm Hawks, they both had green eyes that sparkled even through the paper that rested in his shaking hands. The man had his arm around her shoulder and they were laughing at the photo-taker. He didn't know the man, but he knew the face. He'd seen a shadow of that face in his bedroom mirror, every time he looked at himself.

On the back of the photograph was an unfamiliar, loopy handwriting:

_Gavia and Griffin- Eighteen Years Old._

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Second.**

**Piper (Thirteen Years Old).**

The wrinkled old man had a face like a prune that had dried too long in the sun. He didn't speak more than a few phrases of Atmosian, even though that was where he lived ever since Terra Ispania had been seized and taken over by Cyclonis in the war against his ever-spreading empire. He- the old man who watched his granddaughter with orange gold eyes- had managed to survive with his life, but his way of life was long gone. Even if the war was over and Cyclonis was dead, the empire lived on through an heir and the lands remained under enemy control.

He watched his granddaughter pack her bags, roving through their small house like a storm, ripping maps and charts from their shelters to roll them up into tubes and store them in boxes that were to be loaded onto the carrier ship. Containers and chests full of crystals and lab equipment were next on the list, along with a scattering of old clothes and books. The maps were his. He gave them to her. The crystals were her mother's. Piper inherited them, along with a burning desire to learn everything.

At thirteen years old, Piper knew five different languages and had most of every history book in the house memorized by heart. She was a black belt martial artist, a technician, a crystal scientist without peer, a dedicated writer who logged everything in a small leather bound journal she always kept handy and kept up regular correspondence with leading men and women of science and learning. That correspondence wouldn't be so regular now, now that she was giving up a home address for…

For the _wreckage_ that lay waiting outside their door.

"You're just a girl," he said to her in Ispanian. He hobbled closer, supporting a bum leg with a thick staff made of strong, polished mahogany. "You can't do this."

"You can't stop me," was her response in the same language, angrily throwing her clothes into a bag without folding them and tossing the luggage with the steadily growing pile at the doorway. Piper lifted her fingers to her mouth, giving a sharp whistle. Not long after that, a furry blue creature leapt into the room, perched on the windowsill with his long rabbit ears cocked upward and head tilted to the side, curious. "Radarr, tell the guys I need their help to get this out of here." The creature glanced at the messy heap and chattered incredulously, eyeing Piper with suspicion. The black girl grit her teeth in frustration, resisting the urge to throw something sharp and heavy at him. "Just get them!" she snapped. Radarr was quick to obey, not wanting to be the one on the brunt end of Piper's wrath.

She breathed for a few moments, her palms on the dining room table and slouching forward, her mind spinning with all that had transpired in the past few days.

"That ship doesn't look like it could hold up if I sneezed on it," her grandfather kept on, insisting that she listen to him, needing to at least try to keep her here, home and safe like her mother would have wanted. "You're not going, Piper."

"It might not last against an old man's sneeze" she muttered under her breath, smiling thinly. "But it's the only way off Atmosia I have, and it's leaving with Aerrow."

"For him? You're leaving for this boy?" His voice grew agitated, his clumping gait sounding across the room as he paced, free hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he shook his head, flabby cheeks animated long after he was done. "For these boys? Damn it _,_ I'm not letting you be alone with wallops and merbs and-"

"And? _And_?" She turned around, face twisted. "I'm _leaving_. I'm getting out of here because I believe in Aerrow. I'll follow him down into the Wastelands or back into Cyclonia. Aerrow's… he's…" Her eyes fell, downcast for only the briefest of moments as she held the crystal necklace that always hung around her neck. After a moment they snapped back up, filled again with the same blazing steel as before. "He's going to change the world, and I'm going to help him do it."

Her grandfather's chest puffed, lips pressed together thinly as his eyes grew wide in rage. "You think because you find an old piece of trash with the Storm Hawk symbol, if you fly it that makes you the next Storm Hawks?"

"Never know until we try," she responded, acting cool as she pulled the last tube out and tossed it with the others. "In the meantime, if you're so dead set against me going, why are you giving me all your maps?"

"Merbs aren't real pilots," he muttered stubbornly. "If you don't keep an eye on that green little toad he'll fly you straight into the Wastelands. Those are simply gifts to keep you from getting your fool neck broken."

"Stork is the best pilot I've ever seen."

"If you leave…"

"Don't worry. I've hired someone to take care of you."

"No!"

For the first time, he laid hands on her, grabbing her bony shoulders and shaking her, his sparse white hair flopping into his tangerine eyes, which were wide with panic. Piper stopped, her constant stream of motion halted long enough for the doubt to set in and her fears that she had been keeping under wraps all unravel before her very eyes.

Her grandfather was crying.

"Don't you understand?" he said, voice breaking alongside her heart. " _I'm_ supposed to take care of _you_."

She did understand. That was why she had to leave- because there were others out there who needed protection more than she did. Because right now, she felt that the last person who deserved any pity or any love was herself, for letting her mother fake away her illness until the last moment, when it was too late to save her through crystal or other means.

"I have to go," she told him, reaching over his arms to grip at his shoulders as well. "I have to."

He blinked away foggy eyes. "Your father, he had to go too."

Piper laughed, letting him go to try and step aside, her movements and words awkward now. "Hey, I don't blame him for ditching us. Fighting for Atmos must have been more exciting than me, anyway."

"You're making the same mistakes he did."

"You can't stop me from making mistakes. Just let me try and learn what the mistake is so I can fix it next time around." She shrugged. "Otherwise, how am I supposed to learn anything? Trial and error works best for me."

"Life isn't a science experiment."

"Says you."

"Piper!"

They both turned to see Junko and Aerrow in the doorway, eyeballing the pile of luggage in the same manner Radarr had. The creature in question clambered up Aerrow's body to rest on the boy's shoulder, chattering in what sounded very much like a "Told You So" manner.

"Gee, Piper," Finn muttered, coming into view from behind the two other boys. "Pack enough crap?"

"Finn, shut up and be helpful." The last of her crew shoved past the others, lank green hair falling over his face. Stork hefted up a crate without further comment, shoving through the crowd once more to disappear as silently as he had arrived. Stork was the outsider in their group, no doubt about it, but Piper thought that if she could melt that frozen exterior he could be just as good a friend as Aerrow.

"That's the merb, huh?" her grandfather said to himself. "I don't trust him."

"Why?" Piper dragged her eyes from the retreating figure. "Cause he's green?"

"Because he looks like a punk," he grumbled. "They _all_ look like punks." He turned away from them all to busily wipe at his face, angry at having been caught at such a sensitive moment.

Aerrow, perhaps realizing something was wrong, did his best to alleviate the situation. While Junko and Finn carted off Piper's stuff, he waved cheerfully at her grandfather when he turned to face them again. "Oh-Lah, Sen-yore! Coh mo two ehstah? Good? Are you good? Happy-" he pointed at Piper. "Piper leaving? Or _triste_?"

" _Maldita sea_ ," he cursed in response. " _Eres bien estupido, sabes_?"

Aerrow's lips twitched up in a confused, uncertain smile. "Uh- eh- _estoy bien, si_."

"He wasn't asking about your welfare, Aerrow," Piper sighed. "Also, when dealing with an older person its better to address them as _usted_ , not _tu_."

"…Oh," Aerrow said, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully. " _Perdoname. Yo no hablo mucho Ispano_."

"That much is obvious," her grandfather said, clumping away with his cane. He disappeared further into the house. "Fine then. Go with your idiot boy and his punk friends. When you return, I hope it's with some sense knocked into you and not in a box like your father."

"Trust me," she called back to him, steering a protesting Aerrow out the door. "I'll come back soon. I promise."

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Third.**

**Stork (Thirteen Years Old).**

Howler monkeys screamed, frightened away from the area by the commotion. The sounds of the jungle roared in his ears like the rushing of his blood, gushing out in a torrent from a deep gash on his face. Dead bodies littered the ground- some of them merbs, some of them the natural predators of Terra Tenebria that had joined the fray when they smelled fresh blood and gorged themselves on the battlefield, striking left and right without any care of the differing sides or alliances.

His sister was dead. Stork's long green fingers gripped her flesh too tight- his nails dug in and cut her tough brown hide to let the thick blood flow. But it was dead blood. It was her dead blood, and he was the one who killed her. She wasn't his sister, but she was. Now more than ever. Now, never.

Her father stood above them, watching his adopted son cradle his dead daughter as if they really had been related. Dogwood had to admit they looked more alike than he did, he with his pale pearly skin when compared to their dark jungle hues. "She's gone, Stork," he said. "Leave her to rest. She died well."

Stork sobbed, holding her closer, rocking from side to side. Dogwood's voice grew hard and he reached for Stork's bony shoulder. "Stork, listen to me!" He grabbed the thirteen year old and pulled him to his feet, slapping him soundly across the face. "You're acting like a fool. Olive may have been your sister, but she was also your enemy. She forgot you were her brother when she insisted that you were still a Snowfire- the clan that fell from grace. But you're not." He squeezed the boy, yellow eyes straight and piercing as he enunciated every word crystal clear. "You proved yourself. You stayed true to the Old Ones when she abandoned our home to join these dissenters."

Stork wrenched himself free of the older merb, stumbling backward with tears in his eyes. Now that he was standing erect, the height difference between them was thrown into sharp detail. He was already a few inches taller than his adopted father. "Why?" he said, delirious, one hand pressed against his stinging cheek. "Why? Why me? Why did she hate me so much?" His lips moved; no sound was emitted. Then he could control his vocal chords again, choking with a delirious laugh. "My _blood_?" he turned away, losing his balance and throwing himself on a low hanging tree branch, his head hanging low and his balance completely off. The world swam, a blurry palate of every shade of sick green imaginable. "Why?" He said again, reeling aside, clutching at his bleeding head. "My dirty- my _filthy-_ blood _?-_ filthy half blood… My father's shame- my-" he gagged, feeling his whole stomach revolting against him and raging inside his body.

"God… _God_ …!" He finally lost control and fell to the ground again, amidst the dead bodies of his people and retching, adding to the mess. He gulped for air, lifting his heavy head up long enough to see a flash of purple. It was a flower, held in the tightly clenched paw of a Tenebrian merb. Of the hibiscus family, it's broad petals were a jolt of life in the endless green. He scrambled towards it, prying it from the dead merb's fingers to hold it desperately close to himself like a ward against evil.

The dead merb hadn't had time to use the medicinal plant before he fell, but Stork could use it. "I can fix it," the boy said, shaking hands ripping off the petals one by one. The crimson smears on his hands smudged on the violet petals- not his blood. Olive's blood. Panic driving his limbs, he got to his feet and ran back to his sister, chewing on the petals frantically. The cut along his forehead closed up at once but he spat out the wad before it could fully work it's magic, spreading it along Olive's lips.

Dogwood, seeing what he was doing, grew alarmed. "She's too far gone for even merlop to save her, son," he said, trying to pull Stork away again. He knew that first kills could be bad for those who weren't raised with the same warrior values most merbs had, but he had lost his short temper now. Using merlop on a person long into death's embrace was forbidden. Claws digging into Stork's shoulder, he had to physically drag him away from the corpse. For the first time in his life, Stork struggled against the one who called him son, who protected him and saved him. Bucking wildly, he broke free again and whirled around with a flying punch, knocking the short merb flat.

" _I am not your son_!" he shrieked, barely pubescent voice cracking under the strain. Before Dogwood could stop him, he had massaged the rest of the merlop down Olive's throat. "I… I can fix it… I can fix it… Olive… _Olive_ …"

And as Dogwood regained his senses, he heard another voice- clear as a bell- in the ruins of the battlefield.

"Worst mistake you ever made, Snowfire."

There was a crash and Olive set upon her brother, pounced on him and sent him to the floor, claws ripping at his chest as she wildly scrabbled to reach his throat. Her eyes were wide with rage, teeth gnashing in her long snout. Stork cried out, fending her off while trying still to reason with her, saying her name to try and break her from this mad, hate-filled trance.

"Olive!"

Dogwood came behind her, wrapped his arms around her middle to pull her off of Stork. She stopped her barrage long enough to knock her father off of her and snatch the blade from his belt, digging it deep into his belly and twisting it. The blood splattered, flecked across her face, and she kicked him away to die in pain while she finished off what she started.

Stork had gotten to his feet and ran, almost making it into the jungle. She didn't follow, instead yelling after him with madness in her voice.

"You can run, but you can't hide, half-blood!" she threatened, her voice following him no matter where he went. "I'll come get you, Snowfire! I'll kill you for what you and all of your kind did- filthy humans! _I'll kill you_!"

And run he did. He ran past the locales that he knew, far out of the range of the safe areas outlined to him by both Dogwood and his real father, Hibiscus, before him. He was blind to everything, mindless except for that ever driving fear. Fear of death that ran in his blood, his filthy, filthy human blood.

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Fourth.**

**Finn (Four Months Old).**

The blond woman held a baby in her arms, fast asleep in the darkness of midnight. He slept with the mysterious power all babies had to close their eyes and escape from everything, not stirring no matter how loud the ruckus was the two woman needn't have worried that a stray noise might have roused Finland. Even so, his mother spoke in whispers, the strain in her voice evident.

"I have to go," she said, holding the sleeping Finland out to the green-eyed, purple-haired woman standing opposite to her, in the threshold of a cozy looking house in the middle of Suburbia. "Gavia, you're the only one I can trust him with. Be there for him, like I was for you. After…" she looked inside. At Aerrow. "…After what happened to you."

The blond woman held Finland out further, the motion stretching back the sleeves of her shirt to reveal them swathed with bandages. But that was only the tip of the iceberg- the blond woman was covered head to toe in severe wounds, the most jarring of all being the patch of white gauze that covered the ruin of an eyeball lost in battle.

Gavia turned to look over her shoulder at Aerrow sleeping fitfully in his crib. What a shock it would be for him to see that a little brother had come in the night. But no- Gavia shook her head, pressing one hand against her eyes as if to try and block the thought. Finland would not stay here.

"Rissa, where are you going?" she asked. "Just where do you think you're going in that condition? Do you want revenge? Is that it? Listen…" She gripped Rissa's shoulder, massaging it gently. "I don't know how you got out of the hospital, but you can stay here if you want. You _and_ Finn. I won't make you go back if you don-"

"They're _dead_ , Gavia!" Rissa cried, now clutching Finland close to her chest, her mouth open in a silent groan of suffering, single blue eye streaming with tears. She took shuffling steps backwards, shaking her head from side to side to side to side without stopping her tirade. " _All_ of them! Bluejay, Falcon and Laridae- God only knows what happened to Starling. The last I saw of her she was falling off a goddamn _cliff_. I haven't- I haven't heard from her- I haven't heard from _any_ of the missing ones- I think- I think- I think…" her voice hitched, her head bowed miserably. "I think we're the only Interceptors left, Gavia. And I have to leave. I can't stay here, and I can't take Finn with me. Please. _Please_. I'm not right- even I can see that. Even I can see no mother is better than something like me. I'm not _right_ , Gavia."

She looked upwards at Gavia once more, eye shining with pleading tears. Without waiting for a response she shoved Finland into Gavia's arms, stepping back once, twice, before whirling around fully and fleeing into the night, her crazed sobs following like a black shroud.

"Rissa!" Gavia shouted after her, trying to catch up to her former squadron mate but unable to run when hindered with Finland.

" _Rissa_!"

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Fifth.**

**Junko (Fourteen Years Old).**

The wallop was visibly shaking from horn-tip to toe-pads. He swamped the chair he sat in, hands clenched into fists on his lap as he waited to be bombarded with questions. Even for wallops he was larger than average, but didn't bulge with muscles like some of the other interviewees the Storm Hawks had met today.

"Remind me again why we need a Wallop," Stork muttered to Piper at his left, eyeballing the timid giant in front of them.

"Unless you feel like going out there with Finn and Aerrow battling for your life, we need a strongman," Piper whispered back to him, her breath causing his sensitive green ears to twitch and shrink away.

"Ugh," the merb said, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and staring discontentedly at the far wall of the _Condor_. "Well then let's get this over with. Hey, Big Guy!" he said suddenly, sitting up straight and talking to the wallop. He jumped in fright at being addressed so.

"Uh, yes sir?"

"You're the last one waiting to be interviewed, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Uh- _huh_." Stork scrutinized him for a moment more before slouching back in his seat. He didn't say anything else.

Aerrow frowned, exasperation taking control of his facial features for a moment before he shook his head and he turned from Stork to face the wallop. "Let's start with your name," he said, considerably more friendly than Stork had been. "And why you're here."

"My name's Junko, Mr. Aerrow," Junko said, shuffling in his seat. Aerrow glanced down at a notepad Piper provided for him, scribbled down _Polite_ and underlined it. "And, uh, I want to be a Storm Hawk, I guess."

"You guess?" Stork was quick to notice, four-fingered hand gripping his pencil tightly.

"N-no. I _want_ to be a Storm Hawk." Junko made sure that he was speaking clearly this time, not a cowed mutter. Stork's lips twisted to the side and he wrote: _Easily bullied, and unlikely to kill me in a fit of wallop rage._

"How old are you?" Piper questioned, nibbling on the end of her pen. "Fourteen, right?" When Junko nodded she continued. "Do you have your parent's permission to be here, Junko?"

That seemed to be a question not so easily answered. Junko shuffled around a bit more. Something like an epiphany lit up Aerrow's green eyes and he sat forward in his seat, eyebrows bunched together and mouth smiling painfully. "Do you _have_ parents, Junko?" the orphan Sky Squire asked, trying to gentle the question as best as he could.

Junko nodded. "But they don't… I mean, they left. I haven't seen them in years."

Further questioning was interrupted when the bridge doors opened with a crashing of gears in need of an oiling. Finn stumbled into the room, tripping over his own two feet as he shuffled along like a man suffering from an epilepsy, ears plugged into a portable music player. "Bah chicka bah, bah chicka bah wah, ummm, _ummm_!" he said to himself, grooving along until he found an empty seat next to Aerrow. Plopping an arm over the red head's shoulder, he opened his eyes to see the wallop sitting there. "Yo," he said to Junko, pausing his speakers so that he didn't have to scream. "Is this the wallop guy we're taking on?"

" _If_ you had been here, you'd know we're still interviewing possible crew mates… Finn." Piper was utterly un-charmed by the blonde's rude and tardy arrival. She spoke his name as though it were something icky Radarr had left on the floor. "I've yet to see you do anything that looks like work around here, either."

"Whoa, whoa, guys!" Aerrow sat forward, hands open for peace. He looked at each of his friends pleadingly. "Can this wait? Junko here is waiting for us."

Junko waved, innocently blinking at the new arrival. "Hi," he said, "I'm Junko."

"I'm Finn the Sharpshooter," Finn said, shaping his hands like pistols and aiming them at the Wallop. "Chicka-cha. So you wanna join our little posse here, Junko?"

"Finn…" Piper felt like dying in embarrassment. She hated it when he tried to be cool. " _Please_ shut up."

"You shut up!"

" _Both_ of you shut up," Stork muttered, eyelid jumping as he clapped both hands to his ears, face grotesquely pulled into a frown. "I'm getting a headache just considering listening to one of your screaming matches again. You're like an old married couple!"

" _What_ did you say?" The two demanded of the merb, voices snarling.

Aerrow stood up now, waving his hands wildly to try and get their attention. "Guys, please calm down for a second!"

"Excuse me," Junko said, raising one hand for acknowledgement like a schoolchild. "Is it OK for me to ask you guys a question now?"

The four Storm Hawks glanced at each other and fell silent. It was a grudging silence, but a calm one nonetheless.

"Yeah… go ahead," Aerrow said.

Junko looked from one to the other, clear grey eyes lighting on their faces, studying them with a depth that wallops rarely displayed. Swallowing once, he worked his jaw for a moment, thinking carefully before speaking. "Do you guys…" he thought again. "Often fight like this? With everyone screaming at each other?"

More silence greeted him. "Well, not all the time," Piper said meekly.

"Sometimes me and Piper get into fights, but we've known each other since we were little," Finn explained. "It's never about anything serious."

"Yeah, it's like Stork said. They're an old married couple."

"Not funny, Aerrow."

"I thought it was…"

Piper smirked at him humorlessly before turning to Junko. "So there you have it. We squabble, but who doesn't?"

"Hey!" Finn interrupted them both, standing up alongside Aerrow. He looked to Junko. "You- Junko, right? Can you lift that box?" He pointed to a steel crate that had some spare ship parts that Stork still needed to install.

"Finn, don't be ridi-"

Piper was cut short from what she was about to say, biting her lower lip in an attempt not to gasp. It had taken the help of two grown male wallops to get those parts in here.

Junko had stood from his chair, hefting up the crate with one hand while waiting expectantly at Finn, as if to say, "Yeah, so?"

"Hmm," was Stork's only comment, though he smiled a genuinely happy smile and on his notepad he scribbled down: _I like him_.

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Sixth**

**Lark (Eleven Years Old).**

Nova tried to kiss her.

As usual, he blindly expected her to comply with his wishes, be they what to have for dinner or how best to deal with a Terra their father had handed over to them to see how well they managed when governing subordinates. As usual, Nova attempted to take charge and was startled to find his younger sister- younger by fifteen years- refusing his orders.

What's more, Lark had slapped him. Unaccustomed to not getting his way, the young prince of Cyclonia stood with his face turned in the direction of the blow, shocked to an uncharacteristic silence as he stared at nothing.

Lark's lips twisted into an angry pantomime of a smile. "Now now," she said. "Not until we're married, brother."

"Hmph." Nova regained some of his former steel, smirking down at her. "Don't you think you should at least try to get used to it, Lark? They're going to expect that kind of thing from us."

"And I bet you just can't wait to use that as an excuse." Lark turned her back on him, trying to slip the shoulder of her black shirt higher, where it had been before Nova grabbed her, as inconspicuously as possible. To his credit, the girl didn't look her age- but Cyclonian nobility rarely aged well, and often married young. Younger than her. "No, thank you brother. I'm quite fine _not_ kissing you. Or do you expect me to be like those girls you so enjoy forcing yourself upon when our father's eyes are not on you?"

Nova's reply- whatever excuse he was about to make- was cut off by the door to the room opening and a lean figure stopping in surprise, red eyes scanning the whole situation in nothing but a glance. "Nova, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, yet." Lark's voice was dry as she found a seat and plopped down, crossing one leg over the other. "How was training, Immer?"

Immer ignored Lark, focusing on Nova, who stood gazing out the window at the night skies of Cyclonia. "Nova, what are you _doing_?" he said again.

" _No-thing_ ," the prince responded, irritated as he shook his white mane out of his face. Lark raised her white eyebrow in response before shrugging it off. Lurching away from the window, he slouched out the room with one hand raised in farewell. "I'm off to somewhere more interesting. She's all yours now, brother, don't worry." He clapped Immer on the back as he left, causing the black-haired teen to scowl deeply at his older brother.

Immediately he rounded on Lark. "What did he try?" he insisted on asking.

"Good God, you're like a broken record, Immer." Lark pulled her long white hair out of her face with a scoff. "You see, it's things like that that mark you as a commoner more so than your black hair. My questionable fiancé insisted on a pre-nuptial kiss, if you _must_ know."

The quiet, angry distaste on Immer's face spoke loudly enough.

"If he bothers you that much, you'd do both of us a favor by killing him."

Immer looked up at her sharply, red eyes guarded.

"Then that would leave the field wide open for you to marry me instead," was Lark's reasoning. "And we both know Nova isn't suited to rule this country. He's…" she stopped. "Well, he's just plain _nuts_. He's not supposed to like the fact that we're engaged… is he?" she looked to her older brother for answers, not knowing herself whether she was the one acting bizarre.

"Marrying me instead of him wouldn't solve your problem," Immer pointed out instead of answering her question. That would mean voicing everything he thought wrong with his brother, the one he was supposed to love and serve above all other people. "They'd expect children from us."

"Psh." Lark waved the thought away with a childish, idealistic answer to the problem that posed. "We'll just tell them I'm barren."

"Don't speak about that kind of thing so lightly."

"I promise to be nicer when the situation isn't so life-threatening."

Immer shook his head, making as if to leave. He paused outside the door, looking down at the palace carpets. "Mad or not," he said, "Trying to kiss you or not, he's my brother before all things. He came before all of us. And if it came down to it, Lark?"

He looked now to her, over his shoulder with his young face still _almost_ innocent of the crimes he would commit as the Dark Ace.

"If it came down to it, I'd obey him over you."

"I expected no less, brother. You don't shock me by choosing to follow the heir instead of his bride-to-be." She smiled. "It's just how you were raised. Utter loyalty… and stuff."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. This is just how the game is played, Immer."

He left, but she spoke to him still, under her breath.

"And it's a shame, really, that all you can ever be is a pawn."

**OoOoOo**

**Fast Forward.**

**Pause.**

**Play.**

One month may not seem like a long time, but it's long enough for humans and wallops, who are ever creatures of habit, to fall into a regular routine. After the _Condor_ was lifted out of the Wastelands with the help of Gogo and his _Eldritch Alley,_ they dry-docked her in a safe port to undergo the necessary repairs. All things considered, she looked worse than she actually was, though a lot of their furniture and maps had been destroyed despite Piper's efforts to save them. The days were filled with construction, with Finn and Piper squabbling over who's turn it was to play their music. The days were filled with plans, with getting to know these new friends they had made within the GoGo Giants like Rave and Mudkip.

The days were spent avoiding Stork's room, not that any of them could have actually opened the doors.

Because, you see, Stork was gone.

He made good on his threat to Piper and left early one morning, earlier than even she could get up and stop him. They- the Storm Hawks- simply woke up to find the Storkmobile was gone and their pilot with it. The days turned into weeks and no correspondence or indeed any form of communication was ever attempted.

It was as if he had just disappeared, from their lives and from the eyes of the world.

They knew- the Storm Hawks knew- that their first order of business once they were back in the skies was to seek out Nova and his Harbingers, to take care of them before their lives and home were put in jeopardy again. They couldn't look for Stork, as much as they wanted to. And right now, there was only so far they could go on their skimmers, so a full search was impossible. Piper was able to look ahead even then, already planning out scoping missions to replace the maps they had lost by creating a few more herself, sketching out the Terras as she saw them with her own eyes, borrowing from her grandfather's art to help her new family. Planning for that instead gave her something to do. Something else to think about. Something else to do but blame herself for a Merlop-induced mistake.

She was in her room getting ready for her early-morning jogs around the deck of the _Condor_. She had already stretched, had a cup of coffee black as night, and now sat before her scarred desk, opening it up with an unreadable expression on her face. Inside the drawer was a secret compartment which she opened now, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. Selecting one, she held it up before her eyes, which shimmered with emotion.

"You know," she told the cigarette, "If my Daddy hadn't died fighting that other Cyclonis, you would have killed him." Grabbing a lighter, she lit up one end but didn't smoke it, instead letting it crumble into ash on its own, filling the room with it's light smell. "Maybe one day," she told the burning cigarette in a whisper, "You'll kill me instead. I bet you'd like that."

Stamping out the cigarette, she stood up and stretched her arms high above her head simply to try and wake herself up. "Maybe one day I'll smoke you," she told the carton of cigarettes as she put them away. "On a day when there's no one left but you to comfort me. One day," she said again, "When I feel like killing myself slowly.

"I'll see you then."

She jogged out of the room.


	16. Girl At The Rock Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's right is wrong what's come has gone what's clear and pure is not so sure (it came to me) all promises become a lie all that's benign corrupts in time; The fallacy of epiphany."

**Aerrow.**

I'm in that sleepy state between waking and dreaming, where my eyes are just barely open but I don't want to move my body to get up. Instead I roll over, Radarr muttering as I accidentally squash him against the mattress.

"Sorry buddy," I say, inching high enough just for him to wriggle out from under me before falling back down. He cuddles up against my chest in a small ball, makes a few little noises under his breath and then falls fast asleep, tiny chest rising and falling. Feeling a sudden rush of love for my best friend, I hold him to me, pressing my nose against his blue fur. Outside, birds sing in the tranquility of the country, far from the noise of Terra Neon, which had been the nearest Terra Gogo could have carted us to after the _Condor_ was lifted out of the Wastelands.

Thank you, God, for such a beautiful morning.

"BA DA DABBA DA! BA DA DABBA DA! BA DA DABBA DA-DA _**DAAAA, DAAAAAAAAAA**_!"

The squealing sound of a bugle almost literally knocks me out of bed. The _Condor'_ s speakers blast out the morning cry of so many soldier camps as a female voice cackles in the background. Radarr screeches, flying like a bolt of blue lightning to leap on my shoulder and clutch my neck, shrinking in fear and growling. I stroke him as I glare in belligerence at the speakers, Rave's words now echoing out of it.

"Rise 'n shine, people!" the bangledon sing-songs. "It's wakey-wakey eggs 'n bakey!"

In the background I can hear Piper. "Rave, cut it out! When I said wake them up I didn't mean this!"

"Oh please," Rave says in response, and I swear I can almost see her flapping her hand dismissively at my crystal specialist. "They'll survive one day waking up like proper soldiers. Hey!" the music is switched off and the microphone is muffled by the sounds of two girls squabbling over it. "Hey- quit it! Noooo! No! Not the eeeaaaarsssyiii-aaaaaah!"

There's a hiss and a pop as the microphone is shut off to leave me in ominous silence. I turn to look at Radarr, who chitters at me while shrugging his shoulders. Girls will be girls... maybe?

**OoOoOo**

At breakfast, Rave and Piper are sitting next to each other and beaming as usual, even though Piper sports a few bruises and scratches on her arms and neck while a noticeable clump of fur is missing from Rave's left ear and her white arm warmers are ripped. Honestly I don't know why she's even bothering wearing them at this point.

After a month I'm still glad that Gogo decided Rave should stay with us during the days he flew off to Terra Gear for whatever ship parts the _Condor_ needed. For a long time Piper would often somehow wrangle me into morning practice with her, but when she and Rave found out that they both knew Sky Fu it was like they were superglued together or something. I dunno, girls bond over the weirdest stuff.

"What's today's game plan?" I want to know, looking over my half-dead crew, myself wide-awake on the sheer buzz of not being on the receiving end of one of Piper's moves. Junko still has his teddy bear tucked under one arm while spooning cereal into his mouth. Finn is in his sky blue pajamas, cheek resting on the table, looking comatose. Rave and Piper are the only ones perky and alert, having been up for at least an hour already.

"You know, I think when Gogo gets back with this latest shipment," Piper says, pouring herself a bowl of cereal as Rave went off to find where we were hiding the canned salmon. "We'll be ready to fly again."

This statement makes Finn wake up, his eyes suddenly widening and a grin spreading across his face. "Really?"

"Really, really," Rave says, voice muffled by her salmon sandwich, furry ears jerking this way and that as they pick up stray sounds.

"That's great news!" Junko says, his teddy bear now resting on top of his head. He claps his hands together in excitement. "So maybe then, we can go look for Stork!"

Piper bites her lip. "I'm afraid not," she says, pushing her plate away, only half eaten. I have a feeling it's going to stay half-eaten. "Our first priority is Nova and the Harbingers. If Cyclonis were still here, we could probably squeeze her for a bit more information, but she's not so we have nothing but ourselves to rely on."

"But..." Junko starts, faltering.

"Stork left us." Her tone clipped, Piper abruptly stands from the table, taking her plate away with nothing but the hard way her boots fall against the floor to show her anger. "He wasn't kidnapped, he isn't hurt, he's probably out somwhere having a good time. He left us _and_ the _Condor_ of his own free will, and if he doesn't want to come back there's nothing we can do. We should respect his wishes."

"Right..." I absent-mindedly feed Radarr a bit of my breakfast, thinking hard. "But we also have to go to the Sky Council and explain what happened to the new Interceptors." I rub my forehead, suddenly tired. "We have to explain why we... killed them. Word is starting to spread about what happened to them, and they're thinking of just sending another group of Sky Knights to Bogaton in order to kill off the lizards for good."

Silence at the table, not even broken by Junko who's normally a messy eater.

Finn breaks the silence. "We are _not_ splitting up again," he says in a stubborn mutter, looking around the table for anyone who wanted to contradict him. "We need to stick together more than ever, now."

"Wow, Finn. Something smart is actually coming out of your mouth."

"Shut it, Piper."

"Don't get ahead of yourselves, now," Rave says, leaning against Piper with an arm over her shoulder. "How are you going to do all these things if you're land locked? You guys don't have a pilot," she reminds us, enforcing her point by flapping her sandwich at us.

"None of us are as good as Stork," Junko says, "But we all know how to fly the _Condor_ \- even Radarr. We can take shifts."

Radarr squeals in excitement, clenching one fist in triumph. He rarely got to fly the ship and relished every opportunity to do so.

"Exactly." Done with breakfast, I stand up with my plate and toss it like a flying disk, landing it neatly in the sink. "So let's get to work with what we can do now, and then we'll worry about what we have to worry about."

"Aerrow...!" Piper groans, pulling at her hair. "How many times do I have to tell you those things aren't Frisbees?" She throws her arms up in exasperation. "All the dishes are hideous cause you're always chipping them!"

"Uh, sorry..."

"Don't say you're sorry! Just don't do it anymore!"

"I said I'm sorry!"

"Sorry won't buy us new plates!"

"Well geez, Piper, it's not like you don't make enough money from your inventions to build a whole new _Condor_ out of plates. We're not exactly poor anymore you know." That was probably the wrong thing to say. Piper fumes in silence, visibly reigning herself in from saying something doubly nasty back to me.

"Uh-oh," I can hear Finn mutter sarcastically to Junko. "Mom and Dad are fighting again. This'll only end in divorce, I tell ya."

Despite the fact that Piper's ready to try and kick my ass, I feel my lip twitch upwards in amusement. So I'm the Daddy of the ship full of orphans, huh? I wonder when that happened. Forcing myself to sober up, I get everyone out of the kitchen to their respective jobs, finishing up the final touches so that our home could be back in the sky where she belongs.

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

"Yeowtch!"

I pop my thumb in my mouth, copper blood flowing from the cut. I had nicked myself with a saw shortening a new pipe we needed for the engine room. It's only when I think I've controlled myself long enough to not curse out every God I've ever heard of that I let my thumb free to inspect the damage.

"You all right?" Junko wants to know, coming up behind me to look over my head. The seven-foot-tall Wallop reaches over me to grab my hand, holding it up so he can see as well. "Aw, you cut yourself, Piper!" he says, whipping a bandage out of nowhere and applying it deftly with his large, clumsy-looking fingers. Such dexterity is often needed to fix the ancient engines of the _Condor_.

"Thanks, Junko," I say, handing him the pipe. "It wasn't that bad. Could've been worse."

Junko opens his mouth but instead of words, out comes: "Yi-aaaaaaa _aaaaAAAAH_!"

We hear from another part of a ship Rave's familiar voice growing closer and louder and interrupting whatever he was about to say. The door to the engine room screeches open on rusty gears and two lithe shapes launch into the room, Rave and Finn pouncing me at the same time and sending tools flying. I'm knocked flat on my back, seeing stars when my head knocks against the hard steel floor. They take advantage of my inability to speak and begin to babble at once.

"There's an Alice Matter concert on this Terra tonight!" Finn says, holding up a poster so close to my face I can't see anything but the strings on a flashy red guitar.

"We gotta go we gotta go we gotta go!" Rave adds, bouncing up and down with glee.

"Alice... Matter?" I gasp out in confusion, chest compressed by their bodies on top of me.

"Yeah!" Finn says, "But more importantly, they're gonna be playing with Lobster Telephone, which is only the greatest band ever to grace the stage!"

"Uh, guys? I think you're killing Piper."

They both stop the tirade long enough to look at Junko. I'm still fighting asphyxiation, my vision going blurry and my stomach hurting from the two's combined weight. "Oops," Rave says, jumping off of me, and Finn follows suit. I don't even get a break then, though, because they each grab one of my hands and pull me to my feet, propping me up as they continued talking about songs I'd never listened to and bands I didn't care about. After he figures out what they're babbling about, even Junko starts to get excited, bursting into song while the other two quickly join in.

" _Ohhhhh all she wanted was to be together but he was set on war! And one day he walked out the door to fight his battles far! "_ they sing, forming a chain and stomping around me, wailing on air guitars and imaginary drums, Rave using a nearby wrench as a microphone. _"And on the day he fired his gun she only fought her tears! While he was brave out on the field her heart was filled with fear! All she wanted was to be together but he was set on war! After many moons had passed, a letter she received. All hope for her loved one gone, what she read she couldn't believe. All she wanted was to be together but-"_

"What's going on here?"

The commotion comes to a screeching halt, the three of them frozen in the middle of what looks like a tribal dance, jerking around in a mad circle with me at the confused center. Aerrow stands in the doorway, a rolled up chart of the Condor's engines in his hands and Radarr clinging to his shoulder as usual. He looks from me to our three resident chaos-makers, taking in the situation with a steadily rising eyebrow. Clearing my throat, I wave the poster at him with one hand on my hip.

"What's going on is you better put your dancing shoes on, sweetie," I tell him. "We're going to a rock concert tonight."

My choice is reinforced by the wild, deliriously happy screams of three teenagers.

**OoOoOo**

Aerrow looks nice out of uniform, if a bit smaller without his armor. He fidgets in his soft black sneakers, probably not as used to them as he is to his working boots. I smile, feeling proud to know that as unfeminine as I can be sometimes, I still know how to manage a pair of heels. At least they're platforms and not stilettos- I'm not that masochistic. Aerrow looks me over, mouth twisted uncertainly at seeing me out of my own uniform, probably upset at the fact that I'm showing so much skin. He's like a protective older brother to me, and I can't help but wonder- how would _Stork_ look at me if he saw me now?

"Nice faux-hawk, 'Daddy'," I tell him, gently razzing him in order to keep myself from angry, bitter thoughts.

"They got you too, didn't they?" Aerrow asks me in a shrewd voice, one hand up to rub at his insanely spiked hair, which was now molded towards the center. He smiles, though, his good nature shining through more beautiful than a pretty face, which he'd probably never have again with that disfiguring scar.

I nod, the beads in my hair clacking noisily against each other. Rave and Finn had cornered me, strapped me to a chair, and then proceeded to braid my hair into what felt like a zillion little braids. _Dressing up for the concert is half the fun!_ They had said to me. _Don't use any gel- we need it for Aerrow!_ It hadn't made much sense to me until now.

 _Well, what do you wear to a rock concert?_ I asked, suddenly very aware of how pitiful my wardrobe was.

 _Black,_ they said as one.

 _I own one black shirt, and it's dirty now._ I had thought over every article of clothing I owned, trying to think of what a young rocker would wear. _Hmmmmnope. Nothing. I'll pick out something nice, though. Go get yourselves ready._

What I ended up choosing was as far from black as possible, but I liked it and that's what should matter: A strapless yellow gingham dress that accentuated the color of my skin and made it glow, made me feel like I was a real girl and not just a sexless squadron member, not You-Who-Makes-The-Crystals-Go-Boom-And-Nags-Me-To-Clean-My-Room.

"Your collar's weird," I tell him, reaching forward to fix the collar on his black button-up shirt, folding both ends down the way they were meant to be instead of one tucked into his neckline and the other pointed up like a frat boy. As I pull my hands back I tweak his nose. "And there you go, 'Daddy'. Honestly, what would you do without me?"

His voice is earnest and completely sincere. "Go insane." He puts his hand on the back of my head, pulling me into a hug with my head tucked under his chin. I relax against him, warm mutual trust filling the space between us. With the rebuilding of the _Condor_ , the old Aerrow had slowly emerged from the shaken shell he had been after the death of the Dark Ace. I had even seen him speeding around on his skimmer just for the hell of it, just to feel the wind in his hair. It was like he had a purpose again. It was like he could fight again.

"Now c'mon, 'Mom'. They're all waiting for us in the hangar bay." I can see him constantly looking over his shoulder with concern in his eyes, every so often touching the spot where Radarr always sits. He had been forced to leave the small blue creature behind, since animals weren't allowed where we were going… whether they considered themselves pets or not.

"Finally!" Finn exclaims when we reach the hangar bay. He's reclining against the seat of his skimmer. One foot taps out a rapid-fire beat on the ground, his brown leather shoes slightly scuffed as though they'd been trampled on a few times. He's wearing long-sleeved blue as usual, light like a summer sky, and jeans that actually fit. I wonder if Rave picked it out for him, because he generally doesn't give a crap about what matches with what.

"You're not wearing black," I accuse him, venting a little bit of my earlier frustration at not knowing what to wear and panicking because I didn't want to stand out like a sore thumb.

"Well, I don't want to seem like mindless trend-following whore," Finn says, sticking his nose up at me, mouth a thin, pouting line.

I lower my head, looking up at him in a manner I had perfected from years of calling him out on his BS. "Those words are too big for you."

"…Well, _Rave_ said we didn't want to seem like mindless trend-following whores," he relents, muttering the words with averted eyes like a guilty child. Aha, so she did pick out his clothes. How cute.

"Where is she now?" Aerrow wants to know, touching his shoulder again only to feel that Radarr was indeed not there. "And where's Junko?"

"They went ahead to get the tickets because you two were taking for- _ev_ er."

"Well ex _cuse_ me," I say, putting a hand to my chest and mimicking his annoyed voice. I walk over to my heliscooter, revving the engine. "We're here now, so let's skedaddle!" their engines roar in response and the three of us rocket out of the hangar bay, free-falling for a few scant seconds before my rotating blades and their wings unfold and we zoom off towards the rapidly setting sunset.

**OoOoOo**

"Hey, Rave. You look super cute tonight!"

Rave grinned down at her outfit, an orange vest over a too-small white Lobster Telephone shirt, black short shorts, sneakers, and her normal white arm warmers. They looked like a new pair, since I kinda trashed the ones she was wearing earlier. She must have a whole drawer full of them or something. I couldn't help but notice she'd also done something funky to her short white hair- there were neon orange streaks in them now, really making her look like a tiger. Her makeup was more elaborate than mine as well, all face glitter and eye shadow.

"Yeah, well, I could wear a garbage bag and sell it," she says, one hand behind her head and the other on her hip as she strikes a model's pose. Unimpressed, I tug at one of her ears, making her start and hiss a little, baring her small fangs.

"Hey, whoa!" she says, clapping both hands over the furry appendages. "Only _guys_ are allowed to touch the ears. Girls are a no-no-no."

"So… what?" Finn says, interest perked as he approached her with an evil grin. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"N-no, I mean, it's like, personal space, and only people I'd consider getting into a serious relationship can- he-he- _hey_!" she begins to laugh hysterically when Aerrow rubs her head like a kitty.

"Ahh," he says wisely, "So you're just ticklish."

"I wanna try!" I complain, tickling her as well. How did I not know about this until now?

"I-I-I-I'm n-not t-t-ti-ticklish, s-s-stop!" Rave gasps between honking laughs, squirming and seemingly unable to move from the spot, hugging herself and rocking from side to side.

"Maybe she's ticklish on her belly, too," Finn suggests, looking to me for affirmation. I nod and he reaches out, squeezing the side of her stomach since her midriff was conveniently laid bare by her outfit. Rave squeals, slapping him away and confirming our suspicions. "Hey, this is fun."

"I'm a damn- purple belt- in- Sky- Fu! Y'can't, can't, do this- to me!"

Finn's right, this is fun, but we need to go get our tickets. Through some sort of unspoken signal, we all stop at once and scatter away before Rave can lash back at us, hearing nothing but the sound of her curses following us. We split up, and she, uncertain of who to chase, goes after Finn since he's the slowest. Me and Aerrow meet up again, running for the entrance to the concert hall as we leave poor Finn to his fate.

**OoOoOo**

**Junko.**

After I gave everybody their tickets we all went inside. It's… not exactly what I imagined. There's all these kids around our age packed into the place like sardines in a can- all my friends trail behind me, since I'm the best at making my way through a crowd. People just tend to scatter when they see a wallop my size, they think I'm scary or something like all the other wallops. We mill around for a bit, yelling at each other to be heard over the noise, and then the real noise starts. I've never heard anything so loud, not even when Finn is practicing on his electric guitar. The music has gotta be magnified a thousand bajillion times what it should sound, blaring out the speakers as the band players step onto the stage, and then the music is almost swamped out by the hundreds of fans screaming at once.

" _Jump_!" the lead singer demands of us, and as one I see just about everyone jump in time to the beat along with him as he sings.

Wow!

Feeling a tap on my side, I look down to see Finn. Bending over so he can yell in my ear, I hear him scream: _Help me get up!_

 _OK!_ I yell back at him, my whole body vibrating with the music. Hefting him up, I aim him at the mass of crowd and toss him over. They all reach up and carry him along, a surfer on a human wave. As he makes his way towards the stage I see him wave both hands up at me, wildly yelling and grinning from ear to ear. Aerrow leaps up and down in front of me, gesturing for me to pick him up as well. Laughing, I pick him up in one arm, letting him get carried away by the crowd. I turn now to Piper, holding out my arms questioningly. She quickly shakes her head no, crossing her arms in front of her body like an X. I shrug.

So this is what a rock concert is like. I laugh again when Finn and Aerrow are plucked off the crowd by bodyguards almost as big as me before they can reach the stage, getting shoved back into the crowd along with all the other kids trying the same thing. I notice for the first time that I don't know where Rave is, but after scanning the crowd I don't get anywhere because of all the people crammed in here. Ah well, she knew where to meet up afterwards.

After a while of this I hear the music begin to tone down, and a familiar shape push the male lead singer out of the way. My heart leaps and I gasp, forcing my way closer to the stage- Alice Matter has taken the stage! They were my favorite band- I was even wearing one of their T-shirts right now for this special occasion.

"Hey, I know this song!" Piper says next to me. She must have followed me in the wake I leave through crowds. I can actually hear her now, since Alice Matter songs weren't generally as chaotic as Lobster Telephone's. They begin to play Snow Angel, the cover of another Atmosian pop song.

" _If I said I hate you, would you be shocked and scared?"_ Piper sings along with Alice. All around, lighters and cell phone flare up and wave from side to side with the music. Hmm, I'd better talk to Aerrow, see if maybe we could get cell phones too. " _If I said I loved you, would you even care? The words build so slowly, a catharsis on my tongue. You don't even know me, but you make my mind go numb._ "

The guitars join in now with Alice's smooth, jazz voice, and the crowd goes wild again. Piper might have been singing along, but I find it hard to hear anything but the song, the slow beat. She trails off five minutes later with one last heart wrenching burst of chorus:

_Bitter flakes of cold fly by_

_Match your insides hidden from my eyes_

_They warn me not to even try_

_Better women than I have died_

_Frigid blasts are killing me_

_Let me sink into your freezing sea_

_Maybe this will all just be a dream_

_But there are dreams, and there are dreams._

_There are dreams, and there are dreams."_

"Tell me about it," Piper says to no one in particular. The crowd screams but she seems detached, so I hug her to try and cheer her up. I know she's been sad recently. I don't like it… when my friends are sad.

"Are you OK?" I have to ask her even though I know the answer. She's not OK, at least not right now.

She looks up at me and smiles, a big grin, and I wonder if it's real. "Of course," she tells me. "Don't worry about a thing."

**OoOoOo**

"Whoa, Rave- What happened to you?"

Rave stands before us with her fists on her hips in a strong, belligerent pose, the sleeve of her T-shirt ripped and a swelling black blotch over her right eye. She shrugs, lifting her hands palm upwards at the heavens. "Mosh pit," she says in explanation, and her disappearance during the concert makes so much more sense now. It would've been hard to spot her among all the huge burly guys shoving at each other for no reason at all.

Finn laughs and Piper reprimands her for 'being so foolish' but I just shrug like she had, seeing that she seems to be fine. Then I check my watch. Three o'clock in the morning.

But as the five of us stumble along the streets of Terra Neon's main city, none of us feel tired. Or at least they don't act tired, I dunno. It's like the energy from the concert spilled out into us, so even if we felt like sleeping we probably would just lie awake in our beds, listening to our blood hum. This town is a 24 hour place, and all the malls and the shops were probably still open in order to cater to the late-rising partying denizens.

"Yes!" he says now, pressing his face against the glass of a music shop. "I knew they'd have it! They probably stocked up on Lobster Telephone records the minute they knew they were gonna be playing here."

"Any Alice Matter ones?" Piper surprises me by asking, also peering into the shop. "I want the one that has the songs we heard tonight."

"Testament To Obsession is their best record yet!" I agree, feeling all weird and squirmy and heart-thumpy inside when I remember Alice singing her heart out on stage. I can't believe she's married to that dumb Lobster lead singer. They don't even play the same type of music, the only thing they have in common is they share the same lead guitarist.

Aerrow glances at me, his arms half-raised like he's scared of something. "Um, Junko?" he says, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Are you all right, man? You look like you want to murder the record store."

"I do?" I blink and then smile sheepishly. "Oh- uh- yeah. I'm fine."

Shaking his head in confusion, Aerrow pushes the door open and walks inside. Everyone follows Aerrow to buy their own copies. I'm just happy to be with them since I love 'em all so much normally, but something keeps me outside, thinking. I don't normally do that- I mean, I _do_ think more than people think I think, but I think I don't think too long about the things I think that people generally think about… you know?

"It's just _things_ ," I tell my vague reflection in the store glass. Life… and stuff. I don't even know what I'm gonna do in two years. Look what happened in the _last_ two years- I grew a whole foot taller, and I read a bunch of books other than the ones I normally read in the _Condor_ , and I started liking Finn's music. And those are just what changes happened in me. Aerrow and everyone else got taller too- except Piper. I swear, I think she just got smaller. I always act like our lives will continue they way they have, but then it all changes with us and something else, too. Something inside me. It all changes and I have to change with it, even if I don't want to.

I've always had other people tell me what to do, but it doesn't seem like anybody can tell me what I'm supposed to do now. I have a family that I need to protect, and that should be enough. Is _that_ the way things are meant to be? I've never asked it before. I don't think anyone has an answer.

What would happen to me if the next time we have a fight, it's not a Cyclonian or a bad guy who dies, but Aerrow? Piper? Stork? _Finn_? My new friends Gogo and Rave, who don't mind it when I hug them too hard?

How do you get over something like that?

Why am I even thinking about it now, of all times?

It used to seem impossible. But this new change inside me tells me that kind of thinking is stupid, and right now I can't handle it anymore when everyone just assumes I'm stupid like all the other wallops. I just can't. Being smarter than the rest is what made my parents leave me, or that's what I'd been told, but being stupid is what makes everyone else look down at me. They look down at me even when they physically have to look up to meet my gaze.

…

…I can hear someone breathing…

It's so startling that I notice something so soft, I stop thinking and I go towards the sound, curiosity making my feet move without me telling them to. This new thinking side of me wants to say, _hey feet, don't do that, it might be something dangerous_! But that voice is kinda tiny most of the time, and anyway there isn't a lot of things bigger and tougher than me so I'm not scared.

Glass crunches under my thorny toe pads as I step into the alley, the neon lights of the city behind me throwing my shadow in front, a scary shadow more terrible than I could ever be. On top of a pile of rags, the lumpy thing wriggles towards me, so skinny and mangy and slinky it looks like a worm. But that unsteady wobble soon proves to be something more natural- feet that only just learned how to walk.

"A puppy!" I squeal, running to it and grabbing it to cuddle it against my chest. The poor thing is so skinny I can feel its ribs sticking out and it's shivering, cold or scared or both. "Don't worry little guy. I won't hurt you. There, there." But I guess since the puppy can't speak it doesn't understand me, because he bites me and the shock alone forces me to put him down. He obviously doesn't like me very much because he runs away, back to the pile of rags, and barks at me without ever sounding like he's ever gonna stop.

"… _hush_..."

A hand emerges from the pile of rags and I'm so scared I can't even scream. It looks like a ghost. Or a zombie. The rags had been a person, a person wearing black clothes so ugly and tattered, a person so small and skinny they were almost not a person. The brown puppy shivers helplessly until the hand pets it and calms it down, gathering it against a rail-thin chest by arms that shook like the puppy had. They were covered in scratches and bruises, and I'm no doctor but I bet she's probably got a broken leg. And it is a girl- I could tell, remembering how her voice had been soft like Piper's. "Are you all right, lady?" I ask, damn stupid feet moving closer again because I can't help myself. "Hey, are you all right? Did somebody hurt you?"

"You…"

My eyes go huge. Me? But then she keeps on speaking, her head bowed and long, dirty hair covering her face.

"It had to have been _you_ … you found me… damn it, why do you always… you _Storm Hawks…_ "

Cyclonis looks up at me, tears marking clear trails along her dirty face.

"Please…help me…" she whispers, voice turning into a sob. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the alley wall as the puppy shivers in her arms. "Please…please… _k-kill_ me…!"

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

How did this happen?

There she lies, the menace to the world. She lies on my bed because Starling's room got trashed in the accident, and when we refurnished it Rave kind of claimed it for her own the times she stayed over. I knew it was out of the question to put her there now, I'd feel like I was replacing Rave for _her_. Why did we even bring her here? Why did Junko have to look at me that way, his clear eyes full of true concern?

_She's hurt! We have to help her!_

"No, we don't!" I say, furious. But there's no one in the room but me and her, and she can't hear me. She's unconscious. "We don't owe her anything. We don't owe her _anything_. Turn her in to the resident Sky Knights of the Terra, whoever they may be. We are not taking her back into our home to be a danger to us all. We're not going to clean her up, change her clothes, dress her wounds, not going to do any of that. We try to be good guys but even we have a _limit_! Even we can't save everyone. Even we can hate someone. Even we- _especially_ we- can feel pain and resentment and fear."

But my words echo to no one, because I'm alone with Cyclonis lying on my bed, wounds dressed and clothes squeaky clean. I'm shaking with anger, my face so hot and my mind so confused I might cry. How did this happen? How can I actually feel sorry for her, after all the things she's done? How could I even consider forgiving her?

I'm not even the one she should be asking forgiveness from. Go to all those families who's lives you destroyed with your conquest and lust for power. Go to the widows and the orphans. Go to the Talons like Rave that you recruited and treated like disposable tools. Go to Ravess and Snipe who are in prison while you're here garnering my pity. _Go to my fucking good-for-nothing father!_

"Junko says you wanted to die," I tell her, walking closer to the bed and sitting next to it, my voice not betraying any of the turmoil I felt. I look her over, at all the bandages and the splint her leg was in, the cuts we treated, the bruises on her face and those I remember seeing on her pathetically thin body when I had taken off those rags to clean her like a helpless child. "Jesus Christ, Lark. Jesus Christ… What _happened_ to you out there?"

I can only put my face in my hands, shaking my head from side to side. I can't help it. I feel sorry for her even though I know I shouldn't. Even though I know I'm extending my hand in friendship to a wild animal that would as soon eat me alive as kiss me on my lips like a lover, so cold and soft. The door opens behind me and I hear Aerrow's familiar boots clunking, wishing it were Stork's foot-pads treading barefoot on the floor.

"Hey," he says, taking a seat next to me to look at our enemy.

"This is the second time we've done this," I tell him, wanting to scream and pull my hair. "What's wrong with us, Aerrow? It's _Cyclonis_. She's just going to stab us in the back!"

He's silent for a long time, letting me stew the words over myself. Then he speaks. He explains to me in his calm voice that he had developed over the past two years. He uses the voice he had learned those nights when he and I would be alone together and talk about all our regrets, when he would spill his guts about how he had nightmares almost every single night after he had killed the Dark Ace. When he'd realized his own mortality, and that of everyone around him, including the girl before us named after a storm of unimaginable disaster.

"We can't help it," he says, now sitting back in his chair. "We can't help the way we are. Right now, there's a girl who's been abused here who asked us for our help. We didn't discriminate against Stork being our pilot because he was a merb. And I've never treated you different cause you're black, or cause Finn's got blond hair, or because Junko doesn't even know who his parents are. Right now, Cyclonis is just a girl who needs our help. And the job of a Sky Knight is to defend the weak, and help the sick, and respect life, and prevent death and hate and sadness and everything Cyclonis used to stand for."

" _Used_ to stand for?" I can't help but snap back, my voice sharp. "She _still_ stands for it. Stork was right- we should have tossed her overboard when we still had the chance! She's everything we've worked so hard to stop, Aerrow."

"But it hasn't stopped," he says, speaking even as I see (to my horror) that Cyclonis's eyes were twitching, opening and closing as she starts to wake up. "I never thought it'd happen, but things are turning gray. It's all losing focus, lines are blurring into something else. And it's not… It's not… The bad things never really _stopped_ , did they?" He looks to me for confirmation, something like fear filling his eyes. Almost a panic. "We just kind of ignored them until people like Kitten and her Interceptors slapped us in the face with those awful things they were doing to the lizards of Terra Bogaton." He breathes, now watching Cyclonis try to fight against the black hands of sleep. "And then Nova showed up, too. And after the _Condor_ crashed I realized it never ended with the end of Cyclonia. It didn't stop. And it won't ever stop."

It's then that Cyclonis decides to truly wake and try to sit up, shaking with exertion as she tries to get away from us, not realizing that she's as safe as she's ever going to be. "How are you feeling?" Aerrow asks her, only pausing long enough to take a breath from his last sentence.

"No…" she croaks, trying to roll on her side and into a small ball, her long white hair spilling around her in a fan and her arms over her head, trying to protect herself from the blows she expected to receive. "You bastards… you want a shot at me too, huh? Kick me while I'm down? I'm going to… I'm going to… I'll take you down with me if you…" she sounds like just speaking is too much, her threats giving way to panting, pained breaths.

"Uhh…" I say. "Listen, Lar… I mean Cy…" At a loss as to what I should call her, I skip past that part and just finish with: "We're not going to hurt you."

"You're safe here," Aerrow adds, and I look at him, trying to make my eyes a warning. Being merciful was one thing. Being nice was something else entirely. "We brought that dog you were with as well. Is he.. I mean, is he yours or something? I think he's with Junko." Aerrow looks to me for confirmation and I nod. "Yeah. He's fine too."

Cyclonis is still curled up, her back to me. "I don't know," she says. "He just started following me. Just some mutt."

"Do you…" I'm shocked that I can actually speak, more so by the words I'm saying. "Do you… want to see him?"

Lark peeks at me over her shoulder, freakish albino eyes measuring me for deceit, waiting for my hand to strike out and hit her. She's practically bristling like… like a dog that had been beaten one too many times, to tell the truth. She quickly looks away from me, and I can slowly see her head rise up and down so marginally she might not have meant to do it.

And with a sinking, horrified feeling in my heart, I know she does it because she trusts us. She trusts us not to hurt her the way she's been so recently hurt, because she thinks we're stupid enough to trust her to do the same.

And she's right.

We are.

**OoOoOo**

It is a few days later, when the _Condor_ is complete and ready to fly, when Lark is able to surprise us by getting up and limping out of her room to find us at the dinner table, in the middle of planning our first recon mission. Rave is sitting at my side so I can feel the way she bristles in fear and anger, her ears slamming flat against her head as she glares at her former master, who probably didn't even know who she was. Finn, Junko, and Aerrow are clustered on the other side of the table, their gazes blank yet expectant.

As for me, I don't even know what I feel when I see her standing there, a small brown dog at her heels gnawing at the hem of the pants I had loaned her because she had no clothes.

"I will do anything you say," our enemy tells us, the shadows under her eyes deepening in sorrow, in rage. "I will help you in any task you require. I will turn myself in to the Sky Council myself if that's what you want. I…" She grits her teeth, anger coloring her pale cheeks, turning them pink, causing her breathing to go hard. "…Will do anything in my power to help you find my brothers…

"…and slaughter them like animals."

"Both of them?" I ask her just to judge her reaction, the only one of us able to speak after her shocking proclamation.

Lark regards me with her dark, red eyes.

" _Both_ of them," she says, the steel returning to her voice, turning her back into Master Cyclonis.

**OoOoOo**

**End of "A Storm Is Brewing" Arc**

**Beginning of the "Life Without Stork" Arc.**


	17. Life Without Stork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Once again your eyes make it hard to say goodbye, so I'll just keep driving."

**Rave**

We're doing it, we're doing it!

Grasping onto Piper's shoulder and looking over her head at the amazing blue skies waiting for us, I feel my stomach lurch from the sudden motion of the _Condor_. Her engines roar in a long-awaited chorus of gears and crystal converters, propelling her upwards. And then we're on our way, and I can hear the Storm Hawks cheering madly behind us on the bridge as we finally leave Terra Neon for Terra Atmosia... Finally, but slowly. Why can't Piper bring her up faster already?

"C'mon, c'mon, let's see what this hunk of junk can do already!" I tell her, shaking her and jumping up and down like a kid in a friggen toy store. She's concentrating hard on the wheel, though, shrugging me off with an unintelligible grumble. "You're being _boring_ , Piper!" I complain, shaking at her again. "Put the pedal to the metal! Let's make us a new air-speed record, baby!" I grab her hips now, whirling her up and tossing out of the way so I can take the wheel. She's smaller than me so it's easy to throw her around like that, and it's hella fun to see how angry she gets about it. She counters by running back to me and catching me in a full-body tackle. I yelp as we roll to the floor and try to fight back, but since she caught me way off guard I'm left wheezing for breath as she gets up, grabbing the controls again to keep the _Condor_ going at her steady, easy pace towards Atmosia.

Piper glares, teeth grit as she unleashes her famous temper on me. "Rave!" she snarls at me, and I feel myself shrinking back from the blast of her anger. "Stop. _Pestering._ Me. You almost made us crash!"

Not about to be so easily shoved to the back burner, I stay on my spot on the floor, crossing my arms and sticking my nose up at her. "Well excuse me! I do happen to be experienced in flying ships, you know, and you're never going to make it to Terra Atmosia if you keep up this pace."

"You're an honorary Storm Hawk for the time being," she tells me, focusing only on her driving, "So that means you follow the rules."

"And those arrrre...?" I fall back, splayed out on the floor of the bridge and nudging her leg with the tip of my bare foot.

" _Follow the plans Piper sets out_ ," she says, swelling with importance and taking on a grand air. The grand air is shattered almost at once, though, mad laughter sounding in the wake of her proclamation. She glares over her shoulder at the three guys, who are holding onto each other to keep from falling over.

"Follow the- follow the- oh that's a good one!" Finn whimpers helplessly, one hand over his face.

Piper growls again, letting go of the wheel with a jerk and stomping away towards the meeting table. "Fine, fine! You wanna fly, let's see you fly." She ignores the way Radarr complains bitterly about being overlooked. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other, she waited with a cocked eyebrow. I scramble up to my feet, grabbing the wheel and honking the _Condor's_ baritone horn just to fulfill an old fantasy.

"Whoo hooo!" I say, doing a little dance as we pick up speed. "I'm actually flying the legendary _Condor_! Oh man, this is too cool! I wish Dad could see me now!" Momentarily sobered by the thought, I concentrate more on driving and less on whatever, feeling the _Condor_ slip through the clouds at my command. Piper is right though- this is difficult. The model is ancient, and the faster she flies the more edgy and weird the wheel is to control. It's like this ship has a life of it's own, and she does _not_ like strangers fondling her. Junko and Aerrow, done now that the initial "whoo hoo, we're in the air!" stage is over, head on over to their rooms but Finn and Piper stay behind to watch me fly.

"Pretty sweet, huh?" Finn says when he walks over to me, flashing a huge grin. "Gogo ever let you fly the _Alley_?"

I shake my head no. "I never wanted to. The _Alley's_ wheel alone takes all my strength to hold a steady course, and forget about pulling levers or making turns." Even though I know he didn't mean to, Finn's comment kind of put me down.

 _Gogo_ …

I sigh under my breath, feeling my ears curl and droop downwards. I miss him.

" _Damn it Gogo, if you don't want me around then just fire me already!" The hairs on the back of my neck had prickled and stood up, rage filling my words. "Staying behind while you went for supplies is one thing, but I'm a Giant, not a Storm Hawk! I want to be with_ you _!"_

_Not again, I thought. Not again. Not when I've been here for so long already. I'd hopped around, been a part of just about every squadron out there, but they all got rid of me when they got tired of my authority issues and my history. Buck Buzzards, Rebel Ducks, Third Degree Burners, even the Screaming Queens from Amazonia, but they'd kinda freaked me out so I quit. I'd been with the Giants for like eight months, longer than I'd been anywhere else, and it was because of Gogo. He'd been a friend of Dad's back when the big northern Wallop had only been a Sky Squire. Cyclonia declared war soon after that, just about every soldier was needed and… well, you know. I guess I should just look at it as a matter of my luck, being born on Terra Felidaex which is so close to the border of Cyclonia. I knew Talons. My dad knew Talons. Gogo was fine and all, but the Sky Concil was too restricting for our tastes. Cyclonis promised less interference by the government in return for all available fighters, in return for promising young students to be handed over. It must have seemed like he was making a better life for me than stuck on Felidaex. I mean, that's what Dad always told me. That I'd have a better life that way._

" _It's not tha', Ravie. Ah joost think it'd be best for ye tae be wi' bairns yer own age. Ah'm not kickin' ye oot o' tae Giants, don't fret." He put his hands on his hips and gave me the evil eye, mouth forming into a firm frown. "Though it's beyond me why Ah put oop wi' yer blatant disregard fer tae uniform regulations! Ah ought tae slap ye, lassie."_

_I shrank back into a defensive posture, arms defensively crossed and hands gripping at my arm warmers, which was always a sore spot for Gogo since they weren't a part of the Giants blue uniform. "Touch the arm warmers and you die," I had warned him._

" _Ah'd like tae see ye try it." But in the end he backed down like he always did, because he knew why I do the things I do. He was the only person alive who knew._

" _A'righ', a'righ', he said, holding his tough hands up for peace. He glared warily at the Condor, so far away from where we stood on the deck of the Eldritch Alley. "Still, why d'ye put up such a fuss noo? Tha' blond prick int doin' ye wrong, is he? He give ye tha' shiner on yer face? Cause Ah'll set him straight faster'n ye can say-" he began to walk away from me, punching one open hand with his other fist._

" _Whoa, no!" I waved my hands up at his face, trying to get his attention before he went off to murder Finn or at least ass-rape him with his own crossbow. "The guys have been gentlemen, honest. I swear I got the black eye at a concert. Really!" I said when he still looked suspicious. "I'll stay with them longer if that's what you really want."_

" _It's ye who wants tae be wi' em, Rave. Ah know ye better'n ye think."_

 _And it was true. I did want to be with my new friends for a while longer, I didn't want to say goodbye just yet. I just couldn't tell him that I didn't want to be with_ her _._

"So where's our guest of honor?" I ask Finn dryly, glancing at him next to me. He's gazing out the front window, not really listening to what I'm saying so I kick him lightly to grab his attention. "Cyclonis," I repeat when he looks at me. "Where is she?"

"Holed up in Piper's workroom as usual," he says, growing less cool at the very thought of her on his ship. He brightens up fast, too fast for it to be a real mood swing, and tries to divert the conversation elsewhere. "Hey, want to listen to the new records I bought? I can go grab them and-"

"Oh no, Finn." Piper speaks up, jumping to her feet like she's ready to physically keep Finn from getting the record. "It's my day to listen to what I want."

"Aw, man!" he complains, snapping his fingers. "Can't I just-"

"Nope. So you'd better plug it in, babe, before things get nasty."

Finn sneers at her even as he head over to the record case and plops in one at random. "Yes, you're highness." Piano music fills the air and he perks up some, glancing now at the record he had put in. "Oh- wait! This is the one I actually like! Can we keep it here?" I pick up the tune as well, recognizing it from a popular musical on Terra Neon.

"Dude, I used to listen to this soundtrack all the time," I tell them, grinning at them over my shoulder as the singing starts. We three join in, a bit off key but full of energy.

" _Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear, five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, how do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights in cups of coffee? In inches? In miles? In laughter and strife? In Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, how do you measure a year in the life? How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love- seasons of love."_

**OoOoOo**

"… _To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries, to yoga, to yoghurt, to rice and beans and cheese! To leather, to dildos, to curry vindaloo, to huevos rancheros and Maya Angeleu! Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion, creation, vacation-"_

" _Mucho Masturbation!"_ Finn yells out on his own and we burst into laughter before trying to catch up with the song. _"…Like Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow to blow off Auntie Em, La Vie Boheme!"_ Switching the Condor into auto-pilot, I grab Piper and Finn puts on a shocked air as we hold each other way closer than necessary.

" _Sisters?"_ he asks us, doing an uncanny impression of the stuffy businessman from the musical seeing two lesbians make out in the middle of the restaurant.

" _We're close!"_ Piper and I chorus back, her arms around my neck and one leg hitched up over my thigh. After that we can't help but dissolve into mad giggles again and don't even try to keep up with the song anymore.

"…Huh."

A sharp voice from the doorway shuts us all off. The sound of crutches clumping against the hard metal floor and scrabbling of small paws of the _Condor_ cuts through the music like knives and Cyclonis limps into the room, watching me in particular (or so it feels) with an emotionless, calculating gaze. The nameless puppy is at her heels as usual.

"What is this- Musical Monday?" she asks with a small smile, red eyes sweeping up and down at me and Piper wrapped up in each other's arms. I quickly let my friend go, though I don't know why. My good mood drains away as I go back to steering the ship. She just comes closer to me, though, every tack, tack, tack of her crutches like a hammer chipping away at my self-control. Then she's there, right at my side and watching me, and because I don't back down from a fight I smile painfully at her, my eyes speaking a whole different story as they burn into her red ones.

"For your information, it's Tuesday," I tell her. "What are you doing out of your cage?"

"Here to give you this." Maneuvering around her crutches, she reaches into the pockets of her borrowed pants and drops a crystal in front of me. I fumble to catch it before it hits the floor and gets damaged. Once it's safely in my grasp I glare at her, irritated beyond words. "It's for the navigations system- I noticed you all were missing one compass crystal."

"Well, _thanks_." I toss the crystal to Piper, who goes to check the device herself. I see a sort of grudging look on her face and she fits the crystal into its allotted slot. The compass hand whirls around the face once before settling where North is. the Storm Hawks had been using a hand compass until Piper could get around to making the crystal herself. I'm not too shabby when it comes to crystals, but I'm nowhere near Piper's mastery. But it seems like Cyclonis had actually beaten us to the punch.

"Yeah… Thanks," Finn echoes.

Then, silence. Awkward, awkward silence. Cyclonis gimps over to the meeting table and settles down there with the apparent intent of staying there for a while. The puppy sits at her feet, getting up on his hind legs and putting his paws on her lap while yipping madly. After a few unsuccessful attempts at shutting him up, Cyclonis finally gives in and hefts him up to sit on her lap. It was only then that he quiets to curl up into a ball, sighing happily.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?" she asks him, sounding annoyed even as she strokes him. She looks now at us and I quickly turn back to the controls to keep from having to look at her, stiffening up at the sound of her voice. "So… we're headed towards Atmosia. Getting rid of me already, Storm Hawks?"

"…Yes," Piper says from somewhere behind me. "But before that, we need all the information you have on your brothers."

"Only if I have your oh-so-honorable word that you'll kill them when you find them."

Finn falters at that. "When we stop them, we'll-"

"Not stop. Kill." The words are sharp as steel and the puppy grumbles a bit, probably upset at the tone of voice she was using. "I meant it when I said that, and it's more than because of a personal vendetta. Nova read too many ghost stories as a child, apparently- I'm sure at least Piper's read about the predictions the people of the Forbidden City made about the end of the world."

More silence.

"Well, after coming into possession of a…" she stops, mulling over her words before spitting them out. "…Of a way to bring massive amounts of souls back from the dead, he seems to be putting together a new Cyclonian empire. Don't-" she said quickly, raising her hands for silence. "Ask me how Nova managed to get back himself, because I don't know, but I'm sure whatever it is has been a long time coming. He's had more than enough time to plan it all. Everything down to helping _you_ all destroy my empire."

That makes me turn around in shock, looking from Finn to Piper to Cyclonis with my eyes going wide in disbelief. "You were friends with this Nova creep?" I ask them. They shake their heads no, also looking shocked.

Cyclonis's lips curl upwards, expression sinister. "Why do you think I didn't kill Aerrow when I had the chance? We can't fight him, either of us- Immer and myself, I mean- because Nova managed to instill it in us. Blood is thicker than water, more so for those of the Cyclonia lineage. This might sound a bit mad, but if Nova says _jump_ , we literally have to jump." And then she laughs, as though she just told a joke instead of stating truth. It's a sick laugh. It makes _me_ want to be sick. "Of course there's limits- everyone has limits. If Nova had complete control over me, well…" She gestures down at herself. "I wouldn't be in such bad shape, because I wouldn't have resisted him."

"How did you escape, then?" I find myself asking, ears flattening against my skull. "You're so friggen loyal to Nova- you're probably a spy for him!"

Cyclonis focuses all of her attention to me, white eyebrows bunching together. "Well, why are you asking me? You all were the ones to take me, weren't you?"

Piper and I look at each other. She shakes her head, finally. "We found you on Terra Neon. Don't you remember?"

"Sort of." Cyclonis closes her eyes, disgustingly pretty face not bunching up in concentration but loosening, relaxing like someone asleep. She tries to remember, or fakes trying to remember, I don't know. This might be another trick. "I think I crawled for a bit… I may have teleported, too. And I distinctly remember being carried somewhere. But that might have been a dream. I guess I must have picked this little creep somewhere along the way." As if shocked, the puppy picked his head up and looked at her, triangular ears flying up. She sneered down at him. "Don't be so sensitive," she said, bopping his snout with one long finger. He blinked a few times, not sure what to make of that. "God, you're retarded sometimes," Cyclonis mutters.

"Well, I'm not asking you how _literally_ ," I snap at her, worried at how I felt no utter fear for this beaten creature in front of me. Something close to pity was clawing its way into my heart and I did not appreciate it one bit.

Cyclonis looks aside, uncomfortable again. "I don't like answering all these questions."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why did Nova let you go?" Finn wants to know, his suspicions fueled by mine. "You _are_ a spy. You're not even trying to hide it!"

"Well, I can't really spy on you if you're going to toss me in jail, Mr. Finland."

Finn sucks in an involuntary breath, biting his lower lip. "How do you know my name?" he demands of her. "How does everyone with white hair seem to know my real name!" I touch my own white locks thoughtfully, mulling over the fact. Maybe he forgot to include me in that outburst, cause I sure as hell didn't know his real name was so dorky.

"Because of your most favorite thing _evar_ , Mr. Finland," she tells him with a grin. Apparently she likes answering questions that makes other people uncomfortable, twisted little freak. "Spies. I probably know more about you all than you do. You're named after Terra Finlandia, where your parents were born. Their names were Rissa and-"

"I know what I'm named after!" he says, and it might be my imagination but his spiky blond hair seems to stick up even further with indignation. He doesn't bother saying anything else, storming out of the room with his angry aura lingering behind him.

"You should leave," Piper says softly. "Before I make you leave. If you're on our side, you're sure not acting like it."

"But I am helping you," she protests. "I'm being incredibly helpful."

"You're screwing with us and you know it!" I say to her, hands gripping the controls of the _Condor_ too tight.

"If you really want to help, go clean up my workroom or something." Piper doesn't seem as mad as I am and I can't help but wonder why. She just seems tired, somehow.

Cyclonis cocks an eyebrow. "What- don't you want to know about your own father, Sparrow Cisneros? I can even tell you who killed him. I can even tell you about Junko's parents and…" her smile grows notably diminished. "No, never mind. You don't want to know about Aerrow's father. Besides, I wouldn't tell you even if you were curious." Her eyes swept over Piper's frame like something hungry looking at a piece of meat. "Though I'm sure that's not the only thing you're _curious_ about, is it my dear?"

Piper falters at that, and I can't help but wonder at the hidden meaning behind what she said. What was _that_ supposed to mean? These Storm Hawks had more hidden on beneath the surface than they let on. It was like a pool of black water, one where you didn't know how deep it was or if there was anything nasty waiting for you. I look over at Piper, focusing in on her golden eyes which narrow so nastily when aimed at Cyclonis. Not a place I want to go swimming at night, that's for sure.

"Aerrow's father," Piper says, stepping over to Cyclonis and placing her hands flat on the table, leaning down towards the girl to speak to her face, "Was a hero and the bravest man who ever flew the skies. His name was Griffin."

Cyclonis's jaw drops down in shock. Literally, she gapes at Piper as if she had just sprouted a third eye. The moment only lasts for a half a second but it's long enough to register in all our minds just before the former Empress slams her head against the table to laugh maniacally. Still laughing, she gets to her feet, dumping the pup onto the floor where it sprawls out before getting clumsily to his feet. Yipping in agitation, he follows her as she leaves the room as tangibly as she had entered it, the sound of her laughter following her like a black shroud.

Completely baffled, me and Piper just stand there trying to make sense of what just happened.

"She's _nuts_ ," I tell Piper at last, slamming my fist against the controls. "Can't you control her somehow? Why is she just roaming around the ship like she owns it? Why are you just ignoring that fact and trying to act like everything is hunky dory?" This is not the way I expected the Storm Hawks to be. Not so willing to turn a blind eye. Not so very human.

"You try and constrain Master Cyclonis," she challenges, face dour as she crosses her arms and looks away from me. "Even with a broken leg she somehow got out of her ropes, got _into Stork's room,_ God knows how, and found those crutches so that she could walk." Piper growls, pulling at the braids I had done in her hair. "Not even I can get in there- and she still won't tell me how she did it!"

"She could bring this ship down in a blaze of fire," I say, trying to reason with her.

"She won't," Piper says.

"How do you know?"

"Because she won't." She nods now to the controls. "Pay attention to what you're doing, Rave." When I focus again on the wheel, she continues, her voice tired. "Because if she wanted to, she would have done it already. She's playing with us- maybe because Nova wants us alive, maybe because she herself is using us for something so clever we won't see it until it's too late. But if she just wanted us dead, we'd be dead. I have no doubt about that. That's why I'm not gonna believe a word she says and that's why we're dumping her off on Atmosia the first chance we get."

"Christ," I say under my breath, because I can't think of anything else to encompass everything, the sadness and the madness and the fear and anger. "Why don't you kill her, Piper? I don't understand why you guys insisted on keeping her alive."

"We won't kill her," she says, sighing again. "That's not how the game is played."

"But _why_?"

"Because we won't."

**OoOoOo**

I'm in what's unofficially become my room, even though it's supposed to belong to Starling of the Interceptors. Because I don't feel like debating over the right to the record player since I'm not a real Storm Hawk, I just plug in some headphones to my portable player. Chilling until later, when Aerrow said we could go practice some aerial maneuvers. He wanted to see how I got around with nothing but a hover board, no armor-plated skimmer there to take the blows for me.

I roll over onto my side, tapping my fingers to the beat and humming along with the lyrics under my breath. The _Condor_ makes a lot of weird noises, though, so I have to raise the volume pretty high to drown out the creaks and groans. That's why I don't notice anyone else in the room until I feel a shower of dust bunnies raining down on me from above. I sneeze violently, jumping up and slapping myself clean of the dust while looking around for the culprit, ripping my headphones out of my ears to snarl, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"Up here!"

I look up to see Finn's face peering down at me from behind the grate of the air ducts that run along the ceiling of the _Condor_. He grins, tapping the metal plating with his crossbow. "Check it out!" he says, kicking it open and dropping down into my room. "Tada!" he says, throwing his arms out wide. "I was cleaning my room cause I lost another bet to Piper when I found out you could get to the ventilation system through it! It's so cool, Rave- like a little maze of secret passageways inside the _Condor_! Come with me, let's check it out!" He grabs my hand, dragging me towards the wall, and tries to climb up the cabinet for spare parts to get back up to the ceiling.

"Hold on," I say, reaching up and grabbing the back of his uniform, pulling him back down to earth. " _What_?"

"Oh, come on," he says, rolling his eyes. "Think about it, Rave! We can spy on everyone this way and they'd never know it!"

"You want me to crawl through the dust and the spider webs so we can spy on the people of the _Condor_?" I repeat, just to be sure I heard him right. He loses a bit of his thunder, clasping his hands behind his back like a schoolboy caught doing something naughty.

"Well, um…" he says, fidgeting under my gaze. "It seemed like fun."

" _Seems_ like fun?" I say, appalled. I grab his shoulders, shaking him and unable to hide the mad grin that crosses my face. "That's more like the most genius thing I've ever heard!"

He blinks down at me, eyebrows so high they might just meld in with his spiky blond hair. "It- what? You mean you want to?"

"Hell yes I want to go spy on everyone! You got a camera?"

"Blackmail!" He says, catching on at once, raising his hand for a sky five.

"Exactly!" Our palms slap each other and then I grip at his hand, feeling as though I'd just made the best friend in all the Atmos. Glancing down, I kick up my hover board from where it was lying on the ground and hop on, shooting up into the air while Finn clambers up the spare parts cabinet. I give him my hand and help him up, asking, "Where to?"

"Back to my room!" he says, squeezing past me to lead the way. "I gotta get my camera and see if I can't find some sort of chart for the _Condor_."

"Excellent." We share another sky five and make our way through the secret doors of the _Condor_.

**OoOoOo**

"Where are we now?" I whisper to Finn, who's looking at a crumpled old chart by the dim light of one of his blue striker crystals. "I wanna spy on Cyclonis. I bet she's up to no good!"

"Bah," Finn says, waving me aside with a dismissive toss of his head. "She was the first one I saw. She's so boring, all she does is tinker with crystals in Piper's workshop. I can't believe Piper's letting her sleep there…"

Seeing as how the only other options were her sleeping in my room, Piper's room, or the floor, I still think it didn't seem like such a bad idea to keep her there… Though her sleeping on the floor like a dog would have appealed to the darker side of me, I can't find it in me to be so cruel. At least she was occupied this way and didn't bother me too much, but I didn't want to argue Finn's point. After all, I was grateful that he'd shown me this awesome maze. The least I could do was humor him. "So," I say, "Where did you say we were going?"

"I didn't." He folds up the map and sets his crystal aside in a pouch on his belt, crawling forward again. "We're going to Stork's room, see if we can't get in there this way. Jerk never returned my toenail clippers, and I want them back."

"You even share your toenail clippers," I say in disbelief, grinning at Finn. Or more like grinning at Finn's butt, cause that's all I can see of him in this cramped crawlway. "That, that right there is a sign of true love, Finn."

"Shaddup." He kicks backwards at me and I duck, scratching at his leg with my claws. He yelps, but it's too narrow for him to turn around and anyway, we have better things to do than fight. "C'mon, it's this way!" We reach a fork in the road and turn left, shuffling along as quietly as we can. We come up to a wall soon, though, with a big green skull painted on it.

"That's weird…" Finn says, consulting the map again. "There should be a straight path here to Stork's room."

I'm about to say that we should turn back when a nasal voice rings out at us. I look around wildly for the source of Stork's voice, and I can see in the gloom that there were small speakers installed in the very walls of the air duct.

" _Nyah, I bet you think you're terribly clever, intruders_!" Stork's recorded voice tells us, and faintly I can hear the sound of crystals powering up. I tug at Finn's leg, trying to get his attention so we can get out of here, but he's still trying to get past the wall Stork erected. Maybe since he's a human he can't hear or see what I can. I hope so, because if he does and he's just ignoring it, that means he's an idiot!

"Aw, come on, Stork!" he tells the recording, but his efforts are fruitless. "It's us! Let us in already!"

" _Well whoever you are, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. If you're a Storm Hawk- especially if you're Finn- you'd better get your ass in gear and run, run,_ ruuuuun!" His last word is drawn out, dissolving into peals of mad laughter as Finn and I scramble to go back the way we came.

Ohhhh snap!

The sounds of crystals humming with power grows louder and I can see the barrels of energy guns emerging from the walls and ceiling of the duct. "Let's get out of here!" I say, voice high pitched in a panic. We shuffle backwards like mad little worms, hearing the sounds of blasters firing as we leave the mystery of Stork's room for another day.

**OoOoOo**

"Junko's playing with teddy bears…" I mutter, face over the opening to the vent in Junko's room. "Is that blackmail material?" I get the camera ready just in case.

"Nah," Finn says, waving the thought aside. "Everyone knows everything about Junko. He's that rare breed of Storm Hawk that doesn't have an angst-filled past."

My ears flicker from side to side, my curiosity piqued. "But wasn't he abandoned by his parents?"

Finn shrugs and keeps on moving.

"Today's your birthday, Mr. Fluffy!" Junko says loudly beneath us as we try not to make too much noise, laughing around the sound of an Alice Matter record playing in his room. "Three years ago Finn won you for me in Terra Neon. Isn't that cool?"

I feel my heart melt a little, resisting the urge to squeal. Junko's so cute, I probably wouldn't have blackmailed him anyway. He's like a puppy or something, so I can see why not having parents would bother him. His gentle nature doesn't allow grudges.

"Well, this was a perfect waste of time," I whisper to Finn once we're clear of the danger zone and on our way back to his room. We sit facing each other, glad for the opportunity to stretch our back in a small zone where the roof was higher up. The camera lies between us, various footage playing and illuminating the tunnels with its glow. "Piper's just doing some Sky Fu training, the bitch Cyclonis is playing with crystals, Aerrow's reading a book and Radarr's taking a nap! I'm sure we could sell the footage to some rabid fans but there's nothing here that's really awe-inspiring." Disappointed with the turn out, I shut the camera off and sigh.

"Ah well," Finn says, but I can tell he's miffed as well. "Right now the only thing close to blackmail I have is Piper's obsession with Starling."

I cock my head to the side. "She's obsessed with Starling?" I ask.

"Well, it's not as bad as it used to be," he admits, "She used to have like a shrine or something in her room, but she still goes nuts whenever Starling shows up." He chuckles under his breath, slapping his lap. "It's better than watching- huh?"

He stops all of a sudden, tilting his head to the side and eyebrows going up as he listens for something. I don't notice any noises out of the ordinary, and my hearing is way better than his, so I don't understand what's got him so weird. I wave my hand in front of his face, trying to get his attention, but he shushes me and I can see the gears turning in his head. "D'you hear that water running?" he says. I nod, not getting the point.

"So there's water running. Big deal. I've heard it running for about five minutes now."

A slow smile spread over his face. "And do you know where it's going?"

"Well, we've been all over the ship so far so I'd say…" I press my ear against the floor to listen more carefully to the water pipes. "…Towards the rear of the ship, so it can't be the kitchen or main bathroom. Someone must be taking a-"

My eyes widen as Finn rockets down the chute, taking the camera with him. Realizing what he's about to do, I follow him as fast as I can, trying to snag his ankle or something. I finally catch the leg of his pant and hold him still, not letting him have his wicked way.

"Finn, no!" I say, horrified. "That's disgusting!"

"Hey, it might be Cyclonis!" He looks over his shoulder at me, grinning wolfishly. "C'mon, you gotta admit she's hot."

"Sure, if you like _anorexics_ ," I say, inwardly a bit disappointed with Finn for not looking past a ridiculously skinny body. I don't see how having your rib cages bursting from your skin is attractive. "I do not want to see Cyclonis naked."

"No, but I do! And this is prime blackmail material here."

"That's serious blackmail material," I tell him, voice going stern. "That's the kind of thing that can hurt people. When I said blackmail earlier, I was just thinking about stupid things like nose-picking or baby tea parties or maybe a dorky outfit! We're not doing something that-"

"Think about it this way, Rave…" He wriggles closer to me and by an impressive act of flexibility actually manages to turn around in the chute to face me. "Think about it this way… Do you like Aerrow?"

I feel the heat rush to my face. "N-no, of course not! I mean, Aerrow's like- I mean, I like him, but not-"

"I wouldn't blame you if you did. Aerrow's a good lookin' dude. Ripped like a piece of paper." He flexes his muscles to demonstrate a point, though what point I don't know because Finn is about as muscular as a toothpick. He waggles his eyebrows at me. "C'mon. It's a fifty fifty chance here. Cyclonis or Aerrow- or hey, maybe even Junko. You like wallops, don't you?"

"Dude, no. That's like pedophilia."

"Junko's the same age as you!"

"But it would feel like pedophilia! The boy plays with teddy bears!"

"Fine fine fine!" he waves his hands in the air, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. "So c'mon, let's go already! Here, you can have the camera if that makes you feel better." He tosses the camera over and I'm forced to lunge for it, fumbling the expensive piece of equipment while Finn takes advantage of my pause to hurtle down the rest of the chute.

"Finn!" I hiss after him, trying to crawl while hampered with the camera. "Finn, get back here now! _Finn_!"

We reach the vent into the bathroom at almost the same time, both of us squabbling over it until finally I lose my grip on Finn's blond hair and he lunges forward, eyes pressed against the grate. I wait with bated breath, wishing the passageway wasn't so narrow so I could be next to him and share the crime of curiosity. After what feels like an eternity, Finn's shoulders slump and he covers his head with both hands, groaning, "Aw, man!"

"Who is it?" I ask, barely able to contain my excitement. Was it Aerrow? I mean, I was telling the truth when I said I don't like Aerrow that way, but he _was_ hot. And if I just film it from the waist up, I could sell it for a truckload of… wait, no! Bad Rave, bad! You don't want to look at anyone naked, much less video tape it for profit!

"Look for yourself," Finn tells me, sighing unhappily. My heart pings and I am left with an impossible choice- to perv or not to perv? Clambering over Finn, I rest on top of his back and shove his head onto the floor so I can look over his blond spikes down into the bathroom.

"Aw, man!" I say as well, wrinkling my nose. "It's Piper!"

"I know, right?" Finn groans. "Piper is so not sexy. Can you get off me now?"

I don't know whether to agree or disagree, cause that could be taken out of context to mean something weird. Personally, I think Piper is beautiful, especially when she dresses up all cute like she had for the rock concert. I shrug instead, resting on top of Finn's back with my head on top of his. "Well, there's always next time," I tell him. "And you're actually pretty comfy."

"Yeah, well you're actually pretty fat, so get off."

"I'm _what_?" I smack him. "Take that back, jackass!"

"Ouch!" he wriggles over, somehow managing to get on his back so he can lift his arms to ward me off. "Rave, knock it off! You want Piper to know we're here? Geesh!" he pushes me aside and scatters off, taking the camera with him. I'm left nursing my wounded pride for a bit, but just when I'm about to take off as well…

"I hope you don't mind my intruding…"

I freeze. From below me I hear the unmistakable tak, tak, tak of crutches against linoleum, and Piper's exasperated voice.

"Excuse you!" she says, an there's an abrupt silence as she shuts off the water. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking? Get out before I sic Junko on you!"

"I know I agreed to do whatever you say, but that's only if you keep up your part of the bargain." I can see her in my mind, that casual, careless grin that doesn't show her teeth, that doesn't reach her red eyes. "Now, I want to ask you a few questions. It's only fair, isn't it?"

"Get- _hey_!"

"If you want this back, you'll cooperate."

Inching along more carefully than I had before, I slide over to the grate and peek over to see what's going on. Piper's wrapped in a towel, thank God, but Cyclonis has her robe and is blocking the doorway. Damn her! If she lays a finger on Piper, I'm gonna- well, actually, I don't really want to do anything just yet. That would mean I'd have to explain what I was doing up there in the first place. Awkward.

Piper's eyes are poison, and I silently applaud her for her strength. "What is it, then?" she asks, one hand on her chest, pinching the towel over her frame.

Cyclonis, for once, isn't smiling. "Stork isn't a merb, is he?" she asks.

Piper snorts. "Right," she said. "Well, that's one mystery on board the _Condor_ solved. Thanks. I'd always wondered, cause, you know, there was always the distinct possibility that he might have been a deranged mutant aardvark."

Cyclonis is unfazed. "I have a lot of background information on all of you except him. It's never bothered me before, since I knew at least his mother was one of the original Storm Hawks. That kind of recklessness in the family would explain why such a naturally paranoid creature a would venture from the safety of Terra Merb."

"It's called Terra Thanatos."

"Terra Merb is the colloquial term for it and the one accepted by the Sky Council of Atmosia. That should be good enough for you." Cyclonis taps one of her crutches on the ground, impatient. "But that's not what's on the table for discussion, my dear. Do you even know anything about what real merbs are like?"

"Nobody does," Piper says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Merbs are notoriously reclusive. Are you going to give me my robe now, or are you going to force me to walk out of here half-naked?"

"Well, you could always go fully naked. That would be amusing."

"That's it." Piper jerks one hand up to her in an age-old gesture to shut the fuck up, rolling her eyes. "I'm out of here." She makes to walk past Cyclonis, but the former Empress grabs one of her arms as she walks by, dropping her crutches and the robe, leaning heavily on her good leg.

"What? You're upset with me, birdie?" she says to Piper, sounding insulted, and my hand goes straight to my slingshot strapped to my hip. She pins Piper up against the wall, scarily strong for a girl as skinny as she is- or maybe it's because Piper had been caught off guard. "…going to bite me this time, too…?" I can almost hear her say something else but don't catch the rest, and I wait tensely for Piper to _do_ something already. Well whatever! It doesn't matter! No more waiting- Cyclonis had officially laid hands on Piper with intent to harm. It's time to mix things up. My blood is boiling in my veins, and I'm ready for a fight, but I freeze in utter horror and disgust at what I see Cyclonis do next.

Her hands tilt Piper's face up, long white fingers standing out like stark worms against Piper's braids and she _kisses_ her. On the _lips_. Rage mingles with despair inside me, threatening to take over my intense Cyclonian training and my own natural instincts as both hunter and hunted. I want to kick down the grate and charge in, murder that Cyclonian dyke and save Piper, but even if my mind refuses to admit it my eyes see what's really going on.

Piper is just standing there. Sky Fu doesn't care what clothes you're wearing- if she could get over a moment of embarrassment in case the towel fell she could kick Cyclonis's ass, no problem. But she doesn't. She doesn't. Push her away, Piper! Please, please tell me that's why your hands are on her shoulders…

My heart almost explodes with relief when Piper does push her back, turning aside and clutching her towel close to herself, but she still doesn't do what she should and murder that freak on the spot.

"So you didn't freak out this time," Cyclonis speaks again. _This_ time? From far away I make the connection, realize what that implies. "Well... Mostly you didn't."

"Don't do that again," Piper says, her own hand over her mouth and her eyes closed, hunched over a bit like she might pass out any second.

"Why? You liked it. I could tell. That's sort of why I did it." Cyclonis tilts her head to the side, honestly curious as she steps closer again, wrapping those long, bony arms around Piper's shoulders the way I had this morning, when me and Piper were just fooling around.

If I'd known she really _was_ a- I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have been all huggy with her all the time, always holding her hand or with my arm around her shoulder. Oh, God. "Well, actually, I do see your point. It's just kind of hard for me to care. It's kind of hard to care about anything…when your star is dead." Damn it, there she goes again, touching Piper's face, acting all smitten and shit! I grip the grating, not sure what to do at this point, unable to look away and my mind not coming up with an action I can respond with. "…Hey, did _he_ ever hold you like this?"

Piper doesn't say anything at first, all bundled up in our enemy's arms with both her hands holding her towel up, but she shakes her head no. "We're taking you to Terra Atmosia," she says then, and almost experimentally she inches her head bit by bit until it's resting against Cyclonis's shoulder. Oh come on! I bite my fist in frustration at this, the series of revelations. I knew Piper had her secrets- everyone does- but I never imagined the skeleton would be this big.

"I know." Cyclonis shrugs, one of her hands on the back of Piper's head now, holding her there tightly as though afraid she might run away, her eyes clenched tightly shut. "So when I'm gone and you see Nova again," she says, "I want you to be careful with Aerrow."

"What?" Piper tries to pull away but Cyclonis makes a protesting noise, clutching at my friend tighter than ever.

"Nova needs him." Cyclonis's eyes open, looking downwards and to the side, seeing nothing but whatever was in her memories. "Or at least wants him. And he probably will want me back too, eventually."

Piper manages to extricate herself, bending down to pick up the robe and cover herself better, trying to keep her eyes everywhere but the white-haired girl in the room with her. "Are you like him now?" she wants to know. "I've been afraid of asking, but that's what he wanted you for originally, isn't it? Are you like him now?"

"Am I dead, you mean? No." Her voice goes uncharacteristically soft. "…Couldn't you feel my heart beating when I held you?"

After a moment to think, Piper nods her head yes.

Oh, ick.

"This might sound cliché, but I wish I _were_ dead. I don't have a star, I don't have my family, and my body is so weak I can barely control my crystals anymore." After another tense silence she picks up her crutches, angrily yanking them up and placing them under her arms. "I'm tired by the simplest activities," she keeps on, the wavering tone of her voice stiffening like her body, hands gripping at her crutches until it seems like her knuckles might burst from the skin. "I can't seem to keep any food down, I'm sick, and I'm _terrified_. Do you know what it's like to be utterly terrified? Because I didn't, not until I knew that he was back, that even after I killed him it's not enough to keep his filthy hands off of me. And I don't know why but it's like all I can see anymore is _you_!" Her red eyes shoot accusing glares in Piper's direction, but she falters and then lowers her gaze. "You're the only thing that hasn't changed."

"Lark…"

Cyclonis looks up again, expression guarded.

"You do realize what you're saying, right?" Piper says. "You sound nothing like yourself right now. What did Nova do to you to have you so afraid? He's just a man, even if he is your older brother."

Cyclonis laughs, a shudder raging through her body. The same laugh she'd used earlier this morning. "I'm not the Fifth, Piper," she tells her. "If he killed me for that reason all he'd bring back would be a shell. And he knew it all along. He just wanted me around to have revenge for killing him. He just _said_ I was the last piece of the puzzle so Immer would be fooled into bringing me back alive- alive so that I'd _wriggle_ when he brutalized me." Cyclonis's face was almost as white as her hair. "That's the word he used… _Wriggle_."

"But then who is the Fifth-?"

"I don't know, but I'm willing to bet anything it's Aerrow." Cyclonis's voice is flat, overlapping Piper's question. "And it makes sense, doesn't it? _The children born from the storm will end the Age of Heroes, and the Age of Sorrow will begin._ Cyclonia, Storm Hawks, the lost power of the merbs- It's all written down, Piper. We're all connected, if you believe in fate and destiny. And by this point, you should. By this point, if you don't manage to kill Nova, you should be making peace with your gods…"

She clumps away on her borrowed crutches, leaving Piper rooted to the spot in shock.

"…Because Nova _always_ gets what he wants."


	18. Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now and then when I see her face it takes me away to that special place and if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry."

**Piper.**

_Last night I had a dream that was a memory._

It was like I was outside myself looking inward at a girl who stood before a corpse, expertly prepared by Terra Atmosia's morticians. My first dead body, but not the last one I'd ever see. I didn't know that then. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have become a soldier fighting for Atmosia's freedom. Then again, maybe not, because the dead body wasn't all that scary. It was simply the idea that the body had once been a person that was mildly terrifying to me, the girl in front of the coffin.

"God, I don't even look like you," I/she told my father, whom we'd never seen before. "You're not even fully Ispanian." Reaching out, I peeled up one eyelid to gaze upon blue disks entombed by white, my father's eye. I was alone so there was no one there to gasp in horror at my utter disrespect for the dead. To be honest, though, I would have done it even if my strict grandfather and my silently beautiful mother had been there to slap me across the face like they did when I was in the mood for back talk. I had to know what color his eyes were, even though I inherited almost all my mother's looks. I had to be reassured that I wasn't like him at all.

Just about everything in his body structure said I shared no genes with him. Everything except his long, straight blue hair that fell past his shoulders, just like mine did. And when I saw that, I knew that this wasn't a lie, that I truly shared fifty percent of my _self_ with this stranger who never cared for me. And that fact alone frightened me more than the dead body should have frightened a little girl. Something that before had been utterly me, something that was _mine,_ I suddenly found out that I had just stolen it from some strange man who went away and never came back. But I felt like he had stolen it, not me. It was _my_ right to be me, not an offshoot of some other ridiculous plant.

And then in the strange, jumpy way dreams have, I found myself in my backyard with Aerrow handing me his energy dagger. The heat from the crystal's power singed some of my hair but mostly when I slashed out with it, my hand was as steady as a surgeon's. The cuts were clean and neat and precise. Just like me. It felt good to have all that hair out of my face for once, gelling it up straight and holding back the rest with a barrette. Goodbye, blue fringe of innocent, girlish bangs.

I felt so free.

And now I'm awake, the braids Rave and Finn had subjected my hair to all over my face again, but I don't have the strength to push them aside. Besides, I like the braids. They make me look kind of cool.

I'm curled up almost at the edge of my bed now, the blankets all pushed to the other side. I tossed and turned a lot last night, I can remember. It had been hard to fall asleep, and now that I'm awake again I feel more tired than ever. My alarm sounds after a few minutes, reminding me that it's time for morning practice with Rave, but my heart's not in it today. My heart feels like it's pumping syrup instead of blood, thick and slow and hurting. I miss Stork, and I know that when I get up I won't see him at the helm so why should I even bother?

And my body burns from where She touched me.

Slamming my hand down on the alarm to shut it up, I get dressed and stretch my muscles, knowing that a cup of coffee and some exercise might make me feel better. And of course, I pull out my father's carton of cigarettes, light one up and hold it between my fingers like a stick of incense. Even though I'm not religious I can't help but wonder if I'm worshiping a strange God without knowing it by this morning ritual I have.

Maybe I am worshiping the dead.

Shaking my head at the thought and shaking the ashes from the cigarette, I grind it out in my coffee and put out any sparks of weird ideas that might spring up in my confused mind.

Five minutes later finds me in Rave's room. She's gone already, the bed neatly made and the pillows fluffed, the room mostly immaculate except for some papers strewn across the floor and an ink stain between the cracks on the desk. She might be a sloppy person in terms of maturity sometimes, but she sure kept her area clean. I wish I could say the same for Cyclonis, who seems content to live in the squalor of my workroom. Deciding to be nice, I pick up some of the papers to toss them away but I notice there's writing on them. Curiosity (one of my many vices) forces me to unfold it and see what my dear houseguest has been working on. It looks like a poem, or more likely a song since she often shanghaied Finn into practicing guitar with her (she preferred to play bass but knew how to play an electric guitar as well).

But when I read it, it doesn't sound like anything my friend would write. After only four lines I make a fist, crunching the paper into a small ball so I can't read the rest, unable to control the gooseflesh marching along my skin and back, all the way down along my legs.

_i had a nightmare clearly in a space of mists i saw your face there was a monster in the dream she was choking you and no one heard you scream_

**OoOoOo**

I can tell Rave is in the training room by the sounds of my dummy- called "Bob" by the general populace of the _Condor_ \- getting the crap beat out of him. Sure enough, when I enter the weight room there's my friend completely absorbed in kicks and punches, feinting and dodging imaginary blows and her face bright red from exertion. She had been at it for a while.

"Heeey, Ravie!" I say, sneaking up behind her, glad to see a neutral face in this battle going on inside my conscience. But before I can grab her shoulders to shake her playfully, she whirls around, her hand moving in a clear direction for my face but I can't do anything to deflect it, not believing what my eyes were seeing. She punches me full on the cheek and my head whiplashes to the side from the impact and I fall to the ground, too numb to remember how to keep my balance.

And the first irrational words that burst forward to hide just behind my clamped jaw were _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!_

Then my common sense kicks in and I lurch up to my feet, half-crouching with my arms dangling at my side like a drunkard, but my eyes burning and my body ready to leap into an offensive position.

"What is your _damage_?" I shriek. Rave hisses in response. I wish I could say that's just a figure of speech, but she's literally hissing and spitting at me, dissolving any hopes that she might have tried to catch me off guard for another one of our training tussles. The rumble starts from deep within her chest to escape from her bared fangs, pupils nothing but a vertical slash within her deep yellow-green eyes. Whoever this wild cat-creature standing in front of me is, it's certainly not the girl I'd befriended over the past month living together on the _Condor_.

"My damage?" she says in response. "That's pretty rich, coming from a wolf in sheep's clothing!"

This is so not what I was expecting. I wonder if this is just a very unwelcome extension to my dream, but if it is it's the most vivid dream I've ever had. "What?" I can only manage to say, trying to think of what the hell I'd done to have her so upset with me that she'd hit me. "What the hell are you talking about, Rave? Apologize to me- right now! You're acting ridiculous!"

"No!" she says, stepping backwards and crouching into a fighting position, hands clenching and unclenching. I take her in at a glance- her powerful muscles, her heavy predator bones, her inhuman speed and reflexes, sharp teeth and brutal Cyclonian training. I wonder how she compares to Stork in a real fight, not sparring practices where we're careful to avoid vitals. And it's then that I realize what a dangerous person Rave really could be- hadn't she already almost killed us all with that bomb of hers?

"You know, it's taken me a while to piece it all together," Rave says to me, reaching behind her for the spear that's resting in Bob's fake hands. Shit. Double threat. "But it all started to make sense when I just considered something I thought would have been impossible! You've been in bed with the Cyclonians since the very beginning!" her tone goes low in disgust, her lips turned downwards. "… _Literally_."

My anger dissipates as my blood runs cold.

"Traitor!"

She lunges at me with that one snarling word, spear tip aimed my throat. It's like the dream again, like the punch again, where everything is so crystal clear it's as if I'm on the outside, looking inward at a girl being attacked by her friend. I see from someone else's eyes, because _I_ can't be killed. _I_ can't be the one who dies, backstabbed. I'm not important enough to have such a dramatic story with such a cruel ending.

There is a blast of energy from a crystal, but it's not for me.

The spear goes flying from Rave's hands and she collapses just as my nerves return and I roll to the side, coming up with one hand on the floor for balance, my head spinning from everything that I know being flushed down the drain. Finn and Cyclonis stand in the doorway to the weight room, Finn only in his pajama bottoms but with his crossbow at the ready. Cyclonis has her staff, leaning against the doorframe with her broken leg just off the floor so that she didn't put too much pressure on it. The end of her massive black staff glows with the purple after burn of an energy shot. The nameless puppy yelps once in the silence and she nudges him backwards with her cast, keeping him out of harm's way.

"Lover's spat?" she wants to know, smiling thinly.

"Please tell me you guys were just training," Finn says, kicking her lightly to shut her up. Rave doesn't answer. She lurches to her feet, off balance and remarkably running on that pure anger that radiates from her eyes. Green orbs dart from Finn to Cyclonis and she shakes with rage, taking an uncertain step forward. Purple trails of energy spark around her, letting me know that whatever Cyclonis had shot her with was still working and still hurting.

"You…?" She asks, fangs jutting out over her lower lip. "Not you too, Finn? Is the whole fucking Storm Hawks _squadron_ just a sham?" She takes another step, wriggling purple electricity echoing from the area where her foot fell, but falls to one knee, her quakes more pronounced now.

Finn lowers his crossbow in confusion. "Ehwhat?" Turning to Cyclonis, he narrows his eyes at her. "Hey, what did you blast her with?"

"Oh, nothing lethal," she says, shrugging. "Would you rather have her paralyzed or Piper's throat ripped out?"

Rave slumps to the floor before Finn can answer, tears dripping onto the cold metal of the _Condor_. "Rave!" Finn says, and Cyclonis's eyebrow cocks up when he runs to her. After ascertaining that Rave wasn't going to get back up she limps over to me, using her staff as a crutch.

"Are you all right?" she asks me, face deadly serious yet calm, her light whispering voice not betraying any sort of emotion that might sound like concern.

"Is Rave all right?" I ask in return, trying to look over her shoulder at Finn. He kneels down next to Rave and picks her up bridal style, arms shaking a bit from exertion. Rave is heavier than she looks.

Cyclonis scoffs. "How can you ask that?" she says, disgusted. I don't answer her, staring her down. She buckles in the end, twisting her mouth and muttering, "She'll be fine in an hour, unfortunately."

"All right." I pause. "…Thank you."

It's a habit, what can I say? With the strict rule of the adults in my house, I was brought up to be a proper little girl. Ever since I could remember they had always instilled that phrase into me- when someone gives you something, when someone does something nice to you, always thank them.

 _Even when you hate that person?_ I want to ask them now, but they're dead and not much use to me anymore.

"Any time." She smirks.

Do _I hate that person?_

They couldn't answer that, either.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

I don't believe it.

Rave goes nuts and attacks Piper, Cyclonis and Finn jump in- together- and save the day? "Is the whole world nuts today?" I ask Radarr, who nuzzles my neck from his perch on my shoulder. And now, the cherry that tops the mountainous ice cream that is this morning, the doors to Stork's room slide wide open for Cyclonis, who just strolls right in! She just… walks through the doors like she owns the damn place! I tried to follow her but the doors slammed in my face and Rave's condition was calling for my attention. I left Piper waiting by Stork's room to catch Cyclonis when she came back out, and now I make my way to Starling's old room, boots slamming against the metal and wanting answers- yesterday.

I'm so angry, I walk right past him without even letting him register in my mind. He has to step in front of me, physically blocking my path with one arm before I even acknowledge him.

"Get out of the way, Stork!" I say, and when I say it I realize what it means. My eyes go wide and I look up at my friend, taking a step back. "S-Stork!" I say.

"Well, things do seem to be rather hectic this morning, don't they?" he asks me, eyelid jumping. I ignore that and leap up, tackling him to the ground. He screams in fright, cool demeanor vanishing in an instant as he wriggles to get away from me, screeching like a little girl. "AHH! _AHHHHH_! NO, NOT THE HUGS!"

I only hug him tighter, a mad grin on my face. "Where the hell have you been, you idiot?" I ask him, noogying his head. He sobs plaintively, nails scrabbling along the floor for purchase.

"Ohmygodpleasestop!" he whimpers, curled up like a pill bug. Feeling pity for him, I let him go at last and help him up, where he maintains a safe distance from me, little shudders coursing through his body every now and then. Seriously, this guy. I don't even know how he lasted a whole month outside the _Condor_.

"Man, do I have things to tell you!" I say, clenching my fists and hopping up and down once in excitement. "You've missed all the excitement!"

He follows my movements with his eyes, flinching. "Right," he says. "Good thing I left when I did, then." Sighing, he manages to relax enough to slip into his normal slouching posture and not a frigid mass of sharp angles. "Listen, Aerrow, I'm only back to pick up some stuff, so don't waste your breath on me. I'll be gone before you know it and you can go back to choking on your _excitement_." His lip twitches this time, in a sick smile, and I sink inside. He turns around and walks away towards his room.

I follow him, dismayed that Stork didn't seem to have changed at all. Those weeks without him made me forget how he could be sometimes, his unceasing pessimism and paranoia that while often saving our necks just as equally served to leave me helpless to someone who wouldn't even listen to reason. "Whoa, wait a second," I start off, wanting to stop him but not sure how he'd react to being touched again. "Can you slow down? Why are you leaving again?"

He whirls around to face me, mouth unattractively strained. "Aerrow, you would be understandably upset if I were to suddenly kiss you, would you not?" One eye widens as the other narrows and he leans closer to me, daring me to contradict him.

I take a step back, wary now, my hands up to keep him away. "Of course I would! That's like… gay!" My mouth drops open in shock. "Wait a second- is that why you left? You're _gay_?"

"The point here is not sexuality, Sky Knight. The point is unwanted affection." He stops. "And I'm not gay," he adds, just in case that matter was still unclear. "So I'm taking a break. A long, _loooooong_ ," he leans even closer, one hand on my chest, causing me to crane backwards like a limbo dancer to keep away from him. "Break. Hopefully by then, Piper's rampant teenage hormones will have calmed down and I can return to the relative safety and peace of the _Condor_."

"But-" I struggle for words. "But- but that's crazy! Don't you realize Piper's willing to do anything now if you'd just come back to us? Don't you know what you did to her by leaving? She feels like shit, Stork. She blames herself for-"

"For forcing her feelings on a friend, scaring away your pilot, breaking up the Storm Hawks, and allowing weird half-Bangledon girls to run amuck on the _Condor_?" His eyelid twitches. "It's my understanding that she was attacked, if Junko is to be believed. That true?"

I grit my teeth. "Yeah," I admit, "But there's more to this than meets the eye. Rave would never do something like this."

"Ohhhh?" Stork drawls, pulling away from me at last. "Of course, man. Cause you know her better than anyone after only a month?"

"Stork, we need you back," I say, trying to revert the conversation back on track. "You can even look at it from purely selfish terms, if you want. You could be safe here with only the chance that Piper might kiss you again- which she won't- or you could be out there wherever it is you've been staying."

"I'm very safe where I am," Stork says, voice going low in stubbornness. He turns again but I run around him, blocking his path with my body.

"But are you happy?" I pressure.

"I'm a merb!" he shouts, arms up in the air. If I didn't know him so well I might have been scared, but I know I could take him in a fight. "I don't need to be _happy_ to be content. I'm fine where I am, and I'm staying for as long as I like, so _move_."

"No!" I say, bracing myself for a tussle, but a hand on my shoulder makes me start in surprise. Piper stands behind me, speaking to me though her gold eyes are focused on Stork.

"I agree with Stork," she says, voice strangely calm. "If he's not willing to try and make nice, I'm not going to force him." She lets me go to cross her arms, eyes burning. "After all, you can't beat maturity into people."

"Right. I'm immature." Stork sneers at her, eyelid jumping as his eyes dart up and down her scrawny frame. He shoves past me to stand in front of her, but she doesn't flinch, glaring right back at him from between their substantial height differences. "No speech about how I should stay?" he wants to know, long fingers wriggling at his side.

"Nope," she says, stepping aside and walking away. "You know where the door is. Bye, Bye, Stork…" she looks over her shoulder only briefly, to shoot him one last nasty smile before disappearing around the bend. "…And good luck getting into your room."

He gasps, freezing, before running from me to where his door is. I follow him, remembering just a bit too late that Cyclonis was holed up in there this very moment. Funny how little details like that slip your mind. "Um, Stork?" I say, on his heels. "Listen, if you come back later-"

"Don't wanna hear it!" He stops me shortly, reaching his room and putting one hand on the door. His eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side, probably trying to puzzle out if there was something horrendous on the other side waiting for him. "Open," he says under his breath, pushing on the doors lightly. They don't budge and he latches his fingernails in the cracks between them, trying to lever them open by brute strength. I doubt he's going to get anywhere with that- maybe Junko could have, but he never wanted to get inside Stork's room as bad as the rest of us did. "Open, damn you!" Stork says again, his head tilted backward as he grunts in exertion.

The doors do open, but the sound of gears and energy let me know it's not because of Stork's brute strength. With a cry, Stork falls to the floor after losing his grip, apparently not expecting the doors to actually obey him. He rubs his head angrily before freezing as Cyclonis leans out of the open doorway, her head stretched just outside the threshold as she grins down at Stork. "It's _occupied_ ," she tells him before darting back in and slamming the doors shut again.

Stork's jaw drops.

**OoOoOo**

**Finn.**

I hear a familiar stomping of boots on the floor and get up, pulling out another chair and setting it next to Rave's bed. The tiger girl is sleeping fitfully, every so often whimpering and twitching with a fresh wave of purple energy crawling over her body. I grit my teeth, wondering if I'd done the right thing, and then a few scant seconds later the boot steps grow even louder and the doors to the room swing open, Piper storming in and slamming herself down on the chair I had just provided for her. She throws one leg over the other and crosses her arms, not even trying to hide how clipped her tone is.

"Well, once more we baby sit an injured girl," she tells me, as if I didn't already think of how this room seems to have become some sort of sick bay. She glances over at me, eyes swinging up and down my frame. "You gonna stay half-naked all morning?" she asks, venting her frustration on me now.

"Didn't get a chance to get dressed," I say, sitting down next to her. Something is seriously wrong here, and I'm not stupid enough to get on Piper's bad side by arguing with her now. "Piper, what happened?"

She stops, visibly churning for an answer. "We.. we had a fight," she says at last, noticeably subdued as she looks away from me.

I call her bluff. "Bullshit."

The sharpness returns to her orange eyes, glaring at me. "You asked me what happened, I told you, if you don't believe it that's your problem."

"If she was upset with you, why'd she try to go after me too?"

Piper doesn't answer, but I didn't really expect her to. Something isn't right. I put my chin in my hands, watching Rave fight paralysis and Piper struggle with guilt. Something isn't right, and one way or the other, I'm gonna figure it out. Not too long after that, Piper gets out of her seat and runs off to her room, leaving me alone with our new, backstabbing friend.

**OoOoOo**

**Repton.**

"Gee, Boss, I think it sounds like a good idea."

My lip quivers in a barely contained growl as I glare at my brother over my shoulder, wishing for the love of God that he'd just shut his big fat mouth for once. "Leugey, no one asked you for your opinion, so stop interrupting. This… _gentleman_ here hasn't finished speaking yet."

Nova remains oddly calm from his side of the table, long pale hands forming a steeple on the surface. "I don't mind it. You're all welcome to speak your mind…" his teeth flash in a brilliant, totally false smile. "After all, I'm a much more patient Cyclonis than my sister ever was."

I recline backwards in my seat, casually kicking my feet up on the table and forming a pillow with my entwined hands, tongue flickering as I think. "So along comes another psychopath demanding my assistance. What's the matter with humans so that they always abuse us Raptorssss, eh?" I roll my shoulders. "If _you_ want to build another empire that's your prerogative. I just have one question-"

I rattle my tail once against the floor, the signal to attack. Out of the shadows and from the ceiling, Spitz and Hoerk drop in with their weapons blazing, tongues lashing in cruel, mad laughter as they menace Nova with the tips, thrusting them towards his face, daring him to make a move.

I stand up, languorous. " _You_ and what army?"

Nova must have nerves of steel, because he never even flinches. He just seems frozen like that, with his bullshit smile and his dead eyes watching me. Waiting for me to move, it seems like. Swaggering closer to him, I pull out my boomerang and lift his chin up with the blade, not switching on the power just yet.

"Your head will look good on my wall," I tell him in a purr, powering the crystal.

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The First.**

**The Cyclonians.**

The red headed man was bleeding to death, and that simply would not do. For the grave crime of injuring the future Master Cyclonis- for _daring_ to raise his sword against Nova, the feared Dark Ace of the skies- he must suffer more. And so Nova strode over to him, feeling alone even amidst the chaos of the air battle raging above them in the cloudy red skies of Cyclonia. The red headed man struggled to his feet, valiant and still managing a bloody grimace despite the fatal wounds he had suffered.

"Now let me guess," Nova said, knocking aside a wild blow from the red-headed man's sword and kicking out, sending him onto his back where he lay still, groaning softly. Lighting clove the red skies in two and only a few scant seconds later thunder boomed, accenting his words. "You're the leader of those _Storm Hawks_ , are you not?"

He lifted one foot, pressing down on the man's chest plate. The man breathed, each inhalation laborious and painful and eyes clouding. No, no, none of that. Reaching into the first aid pack of his crashed Switchblade, Nova pulled out a special crystal his sister Lark had constructed for his own use. Though it didn't actually heal wounds, it completely nullified pain. Not good for when you're dying, but useful if you don't need any distractions.

Mind clear from pain now, the man shivered from the exertion of his used body _feeling_ like it could move but knowing it would be death at this point.

"You'll pay," he said to Nova, shaking from head to toe. "You'll pay for what you did to my father! For Terra Gale! For _Gavia_!"

Nova smiled. "Gavia? I'm sorry- who was that? The Interceptor, maybe? Oooohhhh." His eyes widened in sudden recollection and realization and his grin only grew broader. "Ohh yes, now I remember her. She was so… so much _fun_."

Griffin screamed in rage, bucking Nova off him and reaching for his sword from where it had fallen, lunging at the Dark Ace. Nova laughed, sidestepping it and slashing Griffin as he passed. "Is this the greatest Sky Knight Atmos has to offer?" he taunted, leveling the sword with both hands as he waited for Griffin to regain his balance and charge again. "What a man you are. You couldn't even protect that pathetic little Interceptor- how can you protect your country against the wrath of Cyclonia?"

Griffin's knees buckled and he fell again, though it wasn't a smooth movement. He fought death like he'd fought every battle he'd lived through, he fought Nova's words with stubborn pride, he fought… he fought but…

He had lost.

After everything he had done and sacrificed to _get_ here, he had lost.

With a smirk, Nova lifted his blade for the final stroke, deciding that Griffin had had punishment enough. But before it fell, a blast of red energy snatched the blade out of his hands and he was sent flying back into a spire on the chunk of rock they were battling on. He shook his head to clear it, looking around him with a grimace of hate to see who had come to the Sky Knight's aid. She appeared soon enough, throwing aside her shielding crystal to stand at the fallen Griffin's side, her head held high and her bright red eyes challenging.

Nova laughed at his sister, who pulled out a crystal he'd never seen before and placed it on Griffin's chest. "Look at you!" he said, trying to get to his feet but unable to. He looked down to see that a chunk of rock had been dislodged in the impact and slammed down over it, trapping him there. Black blood flowed in an increasing puddle around him, and he was startled to see that he was impaled through the abdomen as well. Still, he smiled at his sister as he died. "Not even twelve… and already playing the game of thrones. You know, you can still rule Cyclonia by my side, if you'll accept being my queen."

"I don't want Cyclonia, but I have no choice." She strode over to him, completely unafraid as she stood before him, still with her chin high. "If you ever take the throne, Cyclonia would die in a matter of years. You have no idea what you're doing, Nova."

"And you think…" the pain was starting to reach him now. Lark placed another crystal on his lap and the pain increased. If he hadn't been so absorbed in his own agony he might have noticed that the crystal on Griffin's chest was glowing bright blue and his wounds were healing. "You're… helping our country by doing this?"

"I'm doing what's best for Cyclonia."

"Not because you hate me?" he had to know, seeing a dark silhouette land lightly behind his sister. Immer strode forward, and instead of plunging his blade into Lark's back he stood there with his arms crossed, watching the proceedings with emotionless eyes. _Help me_ , Nova tried to send with his own eyes. _Help me, brother!_

Lark looked over her shoulder, at the middle child, and then returned to Nova. "That too," she admitted. "I am doing it because I hate you. I certainly don't want the responsibility of Cyclonia on my shoulders. If I could, I'd give it all to Immer, but he doesn't have a head for politics either."

Seeing that he would get no pity here, Nova focused all his attention to Immer. "Remember where your loyalties lie," he warned the middle child, one hand resting on top of the spire that was killing him. To Lark, he had only one thing to say, and he said it with a bloody smile:

"I'll see you soon."

With that, Immer shoved Lark aside and pulled out his blade, plunging it deep into Nova's chest. The eldest of Cyclonia died without too much of a fuss, and only minimally more painfully than most. Lark was rooted to the ground in shock for a full fifteen seconds after he died before regaining her composure and smirking upwards at her now only other sibling.

"I wanted to deliver the last blow," she complained. "The betrayal had to be complete. You didn't need to get your own hands dirty, brother."

"I wanted to do it," he said, pulling his bloody sword out of Nova's body. "You see, this makes me the Dark Ace, now. You're free to be Cyclonis without worrying about warriors all over wanting to kill you just for a title."

"So thoughtful."

"I live to serve you," he said, bowing low from the waist. "Master Cyclonis."

"You shouldn't call me that yet. People might think we're radicals trying to take over the government." Lark smirked down at him, resting one hand on top of his thick black hair. "You know what you must do now. Take care of him." She nodded towards Griffin, who was moaning softly under his breath. "Gain his trust. Lick his boots. Worship him. No one must suspect you're a Cyclonian, understand?"

Immer's face twisted. "I still don't see the necessity in this, Lark."

"All the better to backstab him with," she explained, for the umpteenth time. "While you're there- if you can, of course- I want you to watch the child. Sparrow, or some similar ridiculous name. He shouldn't be too hard to spot- a year younger than me, red hair, green eyes, yadda yadda." Her eyes hardened. "I want you to watch him carefully. If he manifests, all other orders become moot and you must kill him at all costs."

She slammed one fist into her open hand, face a steel mask of fury.

"I will have no other threats to my empire," she said.

"And if he doesn't?" Immer wanted to know. "How do you even know it's him? There might be others we don't know about."

"If he's not a threat, neither are they, assuming there are any more." Lark scoffed. "He's only a child, what harm could he do if he doesn't manifest on his own? No… ignore him. Go help the Storm Hawk. When you see the time is ripe, when Atmosia needs him the most- kill him. Kill all of the Storm Hawks, if you can."

"An easy feat for the Dark Ace!" he agreed, grinning. "I hear and I obey, Master. Good bye."

"Good luck," she said, knowing this might be the last time she'd ever see him alive. He left, Griffin in tow.

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Second.**

**The Atmosians.**

"Say cheese!"

"Cheeeeeese!" Gavia and Griffin chorused. They laughed at the camera as it flashed and the light bulb exploded, glass crunching underfoot. Starling held up the picture for inspection, shaking it until the image came out clear. She grinned, giving a thumbs up to the two other soldiers and they cheered.

"Whoo hoo!" they said, hugging each other.

"Congratulations," Starling said, pulling out a pen and writing on the back of the photo the date and their names. _Gavia and Griffin- 18 years old_. "How does it feel to finally wear the uniform?" she wanted to know, putting the picture away.

"It feels great," Griffin said, green eyes shining. "I just feel a little bad that I didn't join the Interceptors like you guys."

"Psh." Starling waved her hand dismissively. "Are you crazy, boy? You're a Storm Hawk now- only the most prestigious sky squires get chosen for that… and straight out of training, too!"

"Yeah," Gavia agreed with a sigh. "I only got into the Interceptors by the skin of my teeth… and that's only cause I had connections." Smiling again, she winked at Starling. Suddenly, the older Interceptor was tackled from behind, a blond woman wrapping her legs around Starling's waist and her arms around the woman's neck.

"Heeyyy!" she said from her piggyback position as Starling choked. "Are we taking pictures? I wanna!"

"Rissa, you're killing Starling," Gavia noted.

Starling wheezed, collapsing and bringing the blond Interceptor down with her. Rissa squealed as they tumbled over each other, landing at the feet of another newcomer. He had blond hair and the regulation dueling armor of a Storm Hawk.

He cocked one light eyebrow up. "What are you doing?"

Starling cleared her throat, trying to untangle herself from Rissa. "Um, you know."

"We're taking pictures, Finny!" Rissa shouted, leaping up and grabbing his hands to drag him over to Gavia and Griffin. "Pose, everyone!" she demanded. "Make it _steamy_ ," she added, suggestively trailing one hand along Griffin's chest. The teen made a panicked face, looking over at Gavia for help with his green eyes growing larger and more frightened by the second.

Gavia snorted. "How about we don't and say we did? Finch, please try to control your wife."

Finch shook his head, holding his hands up as if to show he was unarmed. "Are you mad? That's like trying to control hurricanes. Beautiful, _delightful_ hurricanes," he quickly added when she glared at him. "What about Starling?" he said, now trying to direct the conversation elsewhere. "She should be in the picture too."

"Then who'd take the picture?" was Starling's reasoning. Before anyone could respond, a resounding roar shattered the peace as a large carrier ship loomed above the cloud line and floated overhead, lightly landing a few scant feet from the group of soldiers and friends. The horn sounded, an almost comical truck-like noise, and the hangar bay opened to a small flying green skimmer.

"Wheeeee~!" the toddler inside squealed, rocketing past them on his miniature toy skimmer. The group scattered, falling to the floor and covering their heads against the onslaught.

"Holy hell!" Griffin swore, daring to peek upwards. A female merb trotted from the _Condor_ , waving her hands frantically at the toddler antagonizing her crew mates.

"No, no, no!" she said, leaping up to try and catch her son. "Stork, you're being very bad! Get down now!"

Starling stood up, her mouth agape. "You brought your son on a war campaign?" she demanded, ducking once more as Stork zoomed just over her purple head. "Are you mad, Vernal?"

Vernal leaped up, finally catching the wings of the skimmer without getting burned by the engines and shut it off, wrenching Stork from the pilot seat to cry in her arms, gangly arms reaching for his toy as he threw a tantrum. She shook the lightweight toy in his face with one hand, using it to enunciate her words. "You do not play with the configurations of new toys, do you understand that mister?" she said. "You void the warranty that way!"

Stork just continued to cry, wriggling to be free of his mother's grasp. Vernal sighed, letting him go to run back to the _Condor_ and sulk. Tossing the toy skimmer aside, she massaged her temples. "I don't know how he adapted that engine so that it could fly so high," she complained. "I swear, this kid is going to kill himself, taking apart all these toys and making new ones. He'll get electrocuted."

"Assuming he doesn't crash land into the Wastelands first," Rissa said, picking up the toy skimmer to inspect it herself. "Hey, your kid's a damn good mechanic, Vern. Maybe we ought to take him with us into battle."

Vernal froze the Interceptor with one piercing glare. "I'm dropping him off with some relatives on Terra Merb," she said, clapping her hands. "And that's it. Feel like _arguing_ with me?" she asked, eyelid jumping as she smiled at her friend.

Rissa faltered, her constant stream of hyper activity cut short for once. "Um, no thanks," she said, lowering her eyes and scuffing the ground with her foot.

"She doesn't have a death wish," Griffin added. "Now are we going to take this picture or not? Here, Vern-" he handed the camera over to her, and her long nose twitched as she sniffed it for potential bomb threats. "Can you set it so that it goes off automatically?"

Vernal held it at arm's length, considering it warily for a few moments. "Hrmm," she said at last, voice grudging. "I suppose I could do something. Give me a minute." Whipping a screwdriver out of her utility belt, she fiddled with the camera. Almost an exact minute later, she shoved the camera under Griffin's nose and grinned.

"Done," she said. "Set this sucker off."

Rissa grabbed everyone within reach and pulled them to her. "Now do we pose?" she asked, impatient. "How bout this- Interceptors on one side, Storm Hawks on the other?"

"Actually," Gavia said, extricating herself from the blonde's clutches, "I'd like to be next to Starling and Griffin, if that's all right with you guys."

Finch nodded and clapped a hand over Rissa's mouth before she could complain. "We understand," he said, smiling at her.

Gavia, Griffin, and Starling turned to Vernal for her opinion.

Vernal shrugged. "Eh," the Merb said. "It does seem logical. After all- you three are siblings."

Three pairs of green eyes sparkled with joy. "Starling, you stand in the middle, OK?" Griffin asked his older sister. She complied, one arm around Gavia's waist and the other across Griffin's shoulder. The fraternal twins grinned at each other over her purple head.

"We're ready," Rissa said, managing to pull Finch's hand off of her mouth, hugging him around his neck with her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"Whenever you are," Gavia added.

Vernal nodded, setting up the camera and loping over to crouch at the front and center, below everyone else on one knee, an uncertain grin forming on her face. "Say cheese, everyone," she said. She was responded with a chorus of "Cheeeeese!" except for Rissa, who shouted, "Pantiiiiiiieeeees!" and made everyone laugh just in time for the picture.

Starling wrote the date on the back of that picture as well.

It was a week before the battle for Terra Gale, and the day when everything would change forever.


	19. The Sound of Screams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where do all the secrets live? They travel in the air. You can smell them when they burn."

Rave's eyes opened, her eyelids heavy as she stared at the ceiling of her borrowed room. Glancing to the side, she saw Finn sitting on the edge of his seat, watching her with his blue eyes intent on nothing but seeing what her reaction would be. The bangledon simply lay there for a while, wallowing in the dull pain that covered her whole body like a gigantic, two-day old bruise that only hurt when you touched it. When she slowly got up, Finn tensed, gripping the sides of his chair in anticipation. On all fours now, Rave watched him with her silent cat eyes, waiting for... something.

"Um, Rave?" Finn said at last, starting to get up. Rave launched from the bed, leaping over Finn's startled head and darting out the open door in a matter of seconds. Finn shouted in surprise, stumbling after her into the hallway. She ran swiftly, but she was still woozy from the crystal blow and Finn caught her in a tackle, sending them both sprawling.

"What is the matter with you?" he said, trying to pin her down but it was like trying to hold a wriggling fish with claws and teeth. She snapped at his fingers, drawing blood more than once, but another dizzy spell hit her and she was suddenly placid, eyes rolling around aimlessly as she tried to regain her focus.

"Cyclonians," she said, head lolling. "Cyclonians, Cyclonians- all of you! I should have known there was no such thing as heroes anymore, not in this day and age."

Finn shook his head, helping her to her feet where she leaned heavily on him, hands weakly clutching his throat in an attempt to strangle him. "Have you been smoking merlop or something?" he muttered, slapping her hands away and dragging her back to Starling's room where he dumped her back onto the bed. Clapping his hands as though to rid them of dust, he eyed her critically. "All right, now will you explain why you attacked- argh!"

He cursed when he realized Rave had fallen asleep again. So he next time Rave opened her eyes and prepared to bolt, Finn was ready. He leaped on top of her when he saw her cautiously readying herself for another springing jump to freedom, gripping both her wrists high above her head with one hand while his other pushed her head back by her forehead, keeping her from gnashing at him with her fangs. She snarled and yelped like an animal, beating the shit out of him in her struggles but he refused to let go.

"Will you knock it off already?" he demanded, shaking her forcibly. "For Christ's sake, Rave! You're acting like a _retard_ , OK? A total, effing retard, so just _stop_."

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Rave's efforts redoubled and she knocked Finn off of her, punching him backwards to slump against the wall. He sat there, stunned and dizzy, while she stood up with her fists clenched and her teeth bared.

"Answer one question for me," she said, stepping forward. "Is Piper gay?"

"OK," Finn said, shaking his head with both his hands clutching at his blond hair. " _What_?"

"Come on, Finn!" Rave said impatiently, stomping her foot and rolling her eyes towards heaven. "You know her- you would know if she was, wouldn't you? So tell me! Is Piper gay?"

"Of course not!" he shouted back at her in shock, leaping to his feet as well. "And what does that have to do with the price of apples in Aquanos? What- did she hit on you or something? Is that why you attacked her? What could possibly-"

She strode up to him, and for a moment he though she was going to punch him again, but she only put her finger against his lip to silence him. "Think about it," she told him, green eyes very close to his, so that he could see the feline pupils and the flecks of gold clearer than ever. They were intense with dark emotions; black, sharp, angry. "That obsession with Starling you mentioned- didn't that ever strike you as something more than hero worship? Didn't it ever make you wonder?"

"…Yeah, so?" he said around her finger, eyebrows bunching together before he started complaining. He shoved her hand aside, irritated. "Dude, you punched me. It's starting to hurt. Even if Piper is gay, that's no reason for you to go wacko! I thought you were cooler than that!"

"Shut up and think for a moment, will you?" she demanded, making a fist and bonking his head. "Listen, I saw her… I saw Piper kissing _Cyclonis_ after you left. Cyclonis went in there, in the bathroom, and they started makingoutand shit!"

" _What_?" he yelped.

"It's true!" she insisted. She began to ramble on, trying to get all the information out in one dump before she lost her nerve and wound up telling Finn nothing. "Then they started talking about all these weird things I didn't understand, like Nova and Harbingers and- well I sort of know who Nova is, I remember he was the prince of Cyclonia, but I'd heard he died- and of course I'd heard from all of you that all these other dead people were alive too- but that still didn't make anything make more sense, because then she started saying that Aerrow was a fifth of something- And they were _disgusting_ , Finn! They were like mushy, lovey dovey-"

"The Fifth?" Finn stepped in, heart beating faster. Rave nodded emotively, biting her lower lip. "Cyclonis said Aerrow was the Fifth Harbinger?" She nodded again, faster this time. "But that still doesn't make sense. Piper can't be a lesbian. I mean, lesbians are…"

He paused abruptly, his blue eyes focusing on something far away and apparently very pleasant. He seemed to lose a bit of his earlier, frenetic panic as he rubbed his chin, a devilish grin slowly spreading across his face. "…Kinky."

Rave made a disgusted noise and he returned to reality, shaking his head to clear it from whatever unmentionable thoughts he was having. "Right, right," he said, clearing his throat with a cough. "Sorry. I was- yeah. So anyway!" he waved both hands in the air, shaking his head once more. "This is really bad for Piper." He grew subdued at that last thought, staring at the floor with a melancholy expression.

"For Piper?" Rave demanded, hands on her hips. "She was the one enjoying herself last night!"

"It's not Piper's fault," Finn said defensively. "She gets carried away. Either way, if there's anyone you should be mad with, it's Cyclonis!"

"How do you know they're not in cahoots?" Rave demanded. Finn merely looked at her, one eyebrow raised. Their eyes met again, and for a brief moment Rave knew she shouldn't look away, but she couldn't help herself. She averted her eyes, afraid of what she had just felt in that moment, and crossed her arms. "Fine," she said. "Fine, fine. But I'm still angry with Piper. How could _anyone_ care about that selfish bitch? How could anyone kiss her, knowing the things she's done? God!" She shuddered. "It's not even the fact that it's gay, OK? It's not that. It's just…" She rubbed her arm warmers compulsively, glancing down at them with hatred in her eyes. "It's just… _her_."

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The First.**

**Rave- Somewhere Along the Border of Cyclonia and Atmosia**

The pain of the needles was still fresh in her arms, a dull ache that throbbed and burned without remorse. She liked the way it felt, actually. It was a good pain. It was a good pain. Clenching her fists, she looked up from her new tattoos to the man who had done them for her, a bulky human with twice as many tattoos as he had earrings and nose clamps.

"Thanks," she said, meaning it with all her heart. The swirls and dots covered the burn marks on her wrists, the raised brand that marked her as a fugitive and a slave.

"Whatever," the artist said, voice muffled by his surgically split tongue and snake bites on his lower lip. "Just don't tell anyone where you got it."

"I'm paying you extra, aren't I? Stop complaining. I'm sure I'm not the only minor itching for some ink."

"Are you done here?" he asked, tapping his foot and looking at his watch. "Listen, if you want something else, tell me now. Otherwise get the fuck out of my place. I got customers waiting."

Rave was used to that sort of treatment. She was beyond caring at this point in her life, so she slipped off the chair without another word and didn't bid the stranger goodbye, simply walked out of the tattoo parlor and yanking on her knitted wool cap to hide her ears, making sure to keep her fangs securely hidden inside her mouth instead of comfortably jutting out over her lower lip. _Still_ , she felt, looking down at her new tattoos with diminishing pride. _It isn't enough_. She could still see the raised swelling, the scar where her damning burn marks seemed to only stand out further in her eyes even though she knew it was nigh impossible to see them under the new markings.

At least this time they were self inflicted markings.

She clenched her fists again, reaching inside her pack for her arm warmers. It probably wasn't a good idea to wear them yet- the man said the new tattoo needed to breathe, and it needed to be taken care of and washed and stuff, but she had to hide the marks. She felt like the whole world could see them still.

"You're a free woman now, Ravie," she told herself, trying to sound reassuring. But she couldn't help but think…

 _So,_ now _what are you gonna do?_

**OoOoOo**

**Fast Forward.**

**The _Condor_ \- Present Day.**

They- the two girls- stood in front of each other, Finn hanging around behind Rave, hands behind his head as he watched them out of the corner of his eye, trying to remain nonchalant.

"I'm sorry," Rave said to Piper at last. The girl's dark face crumpled in relief and she almost started to smile, but Rave's cold eyes stopped her short. "That doesn't mean I'm happy about it!"

"I know…" Piper said. "And… I'm-"

Rave cut her off without mercy. "Don't apologize," she said. "You- you didn't do anything wrong. It's my fault for flipping out."

Piper thought about it. "Uh… OK," she stammered out at last.

"I don't like this- this thing you have with her," Rave said, just in case her point wasn't clear yet. "And I'm not going to pretend I understand it, either."

"OK," Piper said again, just glad to be on speaking terms with Rave again.

"Understand what?" The four of them looked up to see Aerrow entering the room. He looked at the two of them with a genuine smile. "You two patched things up?" he wanted to know.

The two girls looked at each other. "Are we cool?" Piper asked.

Rave took a moment to answer. "I'm cool with you," she said. "You know. I'm just still a little confused."

Before Aerrow could jump back into the conversation and pry at what Rave meant, Junko entered the room, yawning his head off. "Is it time for breakfast yet?" he asked, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, his teddy bear resting serenely on top of his head. A familiar clomping sound could be heard and Cyclonis limped in just behind Junko, the puppy scrambling to keep up with her pace.

"Yes," she agreed, "Breakfast does sound nice. I enjoy my eggs over easy, by the way," she added to Piper with a salacious grin.

"You're not seriously ordering me around on my ship," Piper said, shaking her head in amazement. "Go make your own fucking eggs, Lark."

"Humph." Cyclonis turned her nose up, clumping off in the direction towards Piper's workshop. "On second thought, I'm not that hungry." The puppy yelped when she accidentally trod on him with one of her crutches and she quickly scooped him up in one arm, depositing him on her shoulder so that she was free to limp away again.

Piper followed the Empress with her eyes, arms crossed and mouth set in a straight, unreadable line. Rave could only stare at the dark-skinned girl, shaking her head. "Yeah, I definitely have to leave. This is getting too weird for me."

Finn lost his air of nonchalance at once, his arms dropping to his sides. "What?" he said.

"I think it's time I split," Rave kept on. "You know, maybe hang around Felidaex for a while, visit my family. Then I gotta check back in with Gogo." She smiled at Finn. "I am a Giant, after all. I have duties to other people."

"But you're on vacation!" he protested.

"If you want to go, I'm not going to keep you here," Aerrow said, managing a weak smile and thinking of Stork, who had disappeared once more after seeing that he had been locked out of his own room. "People gotta escape sometimes, I can deal with that."

"Yeah…" Rave looked over her shoulder at where Cyclonis had disappeared. "And I really have to escape from her. You're my friend, Piper, but that doesn't mean I won't snap and slit _her_ throat one night when I can't control myself anymore."

"Was she that bad to you?" Piper wondered out loud, still looking off in the direction where Cyclonis had disappeared. Aerrow reclined against the wall, arms crossed. Radarr clambered up his back, blue head watching her over his mop of red hair.

Rave paused. "Yeah," she said. "She really was."

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind: The Second.**

**Lark- Cyclonia.**

"You killed your brother."

Lark smiled up at her father, full of false guile. "You can't prove that," she said in response. "Now, may I please be excused, Master Cycloni-?" she started to ask, but it was cut off with shriek of fright when a blast of purple energy flew by her head. Master Cyclonis put away his crystal and stood up from his throne, free hand reaching for the sword strapped to his hip.

"How can you act so careless?" he roared at her, face livid with rage. "Do you even know the meaning of shame, girl? Blood is thicker than water! There are only two white haired children in every generation, and the only thing you can muster is a smile when _you murdered your own brother_?"

Lark lost her fake innocence, snarling upwards at her father. "He was never my brother," she spat at him, lifting herself half off the floor with one arm, the other one spread towards him, fist clenched and shaking in anger. "He's not my brother and you know it! Stop _lying_ to me! What kind of idiot tries to marry direct siblings?" She stood up to him now, hands at her sides, clenched as though they wished they could be holding a weapon.

"Nova was insane," she said, figuring she was damned either way. She might as well let everyone know she was not happy on her way through death's door. "He ignored me until I was on the verge of womanhood, and then _dared_ to call me wife and sister- in the same breath- when I was only one by title and the other by the barest of technicalities! I am _not_ his sister, and I was _never_ his wife, not through want, or need, and definitely not fucking _love_."

She spoke too much, she knew. That knowledge didn't prepare her for the blow across the face, one that sent her small body flying back to the floor where she tried to remember what direction up was. The room spun in wild, taunting circles as she propped herself up again, but the only thing she felt (besides pain) was pure, undiluted rage towards her entire extended family. She heard her father's steps coming closer and looked up, red eyes still blazing with rebellion.

"Let's see you make another white-haired child without me," she threatened him in a hiss, crouching because her knees were shaking too badly for her to stand up again. It was enough to make him stop in his tracks, and she smiled humorlessly at how weak he was when faced with the prospect of not being able to carry on his genes.

Humans were so simple, sometimes.

"You say your brother was insane," Master Cyclonis told her, obsidian blade bare in his hands, the dark edge a very real threat to her life in this instant. He hefted it up, point towards her, and she went rigid, tensing for a fight or flight reaction- though what she could do against him was beyond her. All she knew was that she didn't come this far in her betrayal to fall so easily. "Don't be so quick to judge. He took something that he wasn't ready for. And in all likelihood-"

He pressed the tip against her forehead. A single drop of blood welled and spilled down the bridge of her thin, sharp nose, and from somewhere deep inside she could have sworn she heard the sound of a monstrous lock breaking and falling from its door to clatter against the floor.

"-You aren't, either."

And her mind was filled with her father's red eyes, the black pupils expanding and thrusting outwards, reaching for her with their tiny hands to pull her deeper into that other place where Nova had lost his sanity, surrounded on all sides by fire that gave no light but burned her with it's intense frosty tongues, lapping at her flesh and pulling the life from her, forever and forever, and around her she saw the faces of familiar strangers, all of them with hair like fresh snow and eyes that burned with that same crimson splash that stained her hands.

That's when the pain started.

Glued to the tip of her father's sword by forces unknown and unknowable, Lark could only scream, pale hands reaching for nothing. They were the longest five minutes of her life. When it was done she collapsed onto the floor, trying to breathe when parts of her mind she could never have utilized before suddenly awakened and kindled to a fire that would most certainly scorch her if she tried to wield it. It took all her control not to be overwhelmed by that dark place inside her father's eyes. All other bodily functions became so unimportant, even her heart skipped and slowed as she fought to keep her mind in place, fought to remember who she was when presented with so many people clamoring around her, walking through her, hailing her as Queen.

From very far away, she heard her father's voice.

"They'll be like this for a few days," he said, sheathing his sword and stepping back towards his throne. "They're always excited when someone new can see them. But unless you learn to control your new eyes, you'll see them all the time, and until you can control your ears you will always hear them whispering."

Lark sat up, focusing on his voice to drown out the chaos, eyes swimming with tears. She looked around her at generations of Cyclonia, all offering to help in any way they can. "Go away!" she snarled at them, standing up and trying to shove them aside but her hands went right through them.

Then she froze, the silence filled by the muted roar of the ghosts around her.

In the far corner of the room, Nova's shadow watched her with a smile on his face. He waved once and then walked away, leaving her to be overwhelmed.

**OoOoOo**

**Fast-Forward.**

**The _Condor_ \- Present Day.**

Rave ended up staying for one more day, deciding it would be best to pack now and leave the next morning so that she'd have the whole day to travel. Junko helped her, not that there was much to pack, but they ended up joking and fooling around more than they actually got any work done. Piper left her alone, which is what she wanted, because even though she had said she was fine with her friend there were just some things you needed time to digest.

Finn saw her off in the morning. He'd had the graveyard shift that night, since somebody needed to make sure the _Condor_ was still on course through the night, and so he was already up when she tried to tiptoe to the hangar.

"Ah HA!" he said, catching her around the waist, snaking up behind her when he saw her leaving. He caught her hand as it reached for the control to the hangar doors, holding it tightly. "Not even a goodbye kiss, huh?" he asked her, peering over her shoulder to grin at her face. Rave elbowed him in the gut and he let her go, gasping.

"Kiss, yeah right," Rave said, hefting her pack so that the strap didn't dig into her shoulder too uncomfortably. "Right now that's the last word I want to hear."

"You don't gotta leave, you know," Finn muttered, rubbing his stomach with a sour expression. "She's going straight to jail as soon as we reach Atmosia." There was, of course, no need to clarify who _she_ was.

Rave rolled her shoulders, tossing her hover board to the floor. "You guys knew I was only a temporary guest," she said. "Had to leave sooner or later."

"Yeah," Finn agreed, scuffing one foot against the floor with his arm crossed. "I just wish it wasn't sooner." He frowned when he saw the hangar doors inching open with the creaking of rusty gears. "God, another friend leaving!" he said suddenly, making her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the anger in his words. "Did you know Stork came by yesterday morning and then took off again? Jerk! Why does everyone…" He kicked the floor again. "…Always _leave_?"

Rave felt weird again when she heard the pain in those last words threatening to break his voice. She looked out to see the sky purple with the promise of dawn, something squirming inside her. "Listen," she said, because if she didn't speak the wriggling creature inside her might just burst out of her chest. "This thing with Stork, and Piper, and Cyclonis… It'll all blow over, right? So you have nothing to worry about."

"Blow over or blow up."

"Blow over," she insisted, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm only making things more complicated by staying here and reminding Piper of, you know, all the drama yesterday. Plus, I've been an ass. I overstayed my welcome when I punched Piper."

"Aerrow's pretty sore about that, yeah," Finn agreed, grudgingly. Then he started up again, "But still, you don't gotta-"

"Goodbye, Finn."

He stopped. "…Bye," he said at last, seeing that he couldn't make her stay. "See you soon?"

"Absolutely. If I'm not on Felidaex you can send a message to the Giants, if you're just _dying_ to see me," she said with a grin, trying to make light of it. "Tell everyone else bye for me, okay? I don't want to seem like another Stork." With that, she kicked up her hover board, listening to the engines hum for a bit before hopping on and floating away, waving to Finn as she left. He stayed in the hangar opening, waving back as she turned into an orange and blue dot on the horizon. But then suddenly, she grew much larger in his vision as she came zooming back to the _Condor_ , tackling him without mercy with her arms around his neck.

" _Blahhhck_!" Finn choked, prying at her arms with his fingers. "Back… So soon?" he wheezed when she relented enough so that he could breathe.

"Sorry!" she said with a laugh, pulling back with her hands behind her back, eyes averted. "It's nothing, I just… I… ah… uhm... I forgot to… you know, give you something before I left." She hovered in front of him, the hover board giving her a few inches over him, so she had to bend over to kiss his cheek. Then the reverse thrusters on her board activated and she pulled away, flying backwards out the open hangar door. "Bye, Finn," she said again, waving once more before bringing the board around and flying away.

 _Ah, young love,_ Cyclonis thought wryly to herself, watching the proceedings from behind the safety of her cloaking crystal. Finn took a while to tear himself from the hangar door, but he eventually left. Cyclonis waited until she was sure he was gone before settling herself on Piper's heli-scooter and silently following the bangeldon out into the wilds of Atmos's skies.

**OoOoOo**

**Rewind- The Third**

**Terra Gale, sixteen years ago.**

"Pretty quiet out there, huh? Peaceful."

Gavia looked up from the engine of her Skimmer, wrench held loosely in one hand. Another soldier was sitting on top of his own ride in the collective hangar, where all the squadrons were resting before the big day tomorrow. Atmosia's Sky Knights were heading a frontal assault against Cyclonia's armies, and the Storm Hawks would be at the front and center. Gavia couldn't sleep so she got out of her bunk and began to fiddle with her Skimmer to keep her mind off her brother, and the danger that lay in wait for all of them. After only a year in service, Griffin had proved himself to be one of the greatest if not _the_ greatest Sky Knight to fly the skies, but she wondered if that would help him tomorrow.

"Very peaceful," the soldier said again, intruding on her thoughts. He didn't look at her, simply sat on his sky ride with a sketchpad in one hand, every so often looking out the hangar door at the sleeping Gale. Oddly enough, he still was wearing his helmet, but she didn't think too much on it.

She sat up on her heels, twirling the wrench around in her hands. "Yeah," she agreed with the soldier, who wore the armor of a Rebel Duck. "Calm before the storm, as they say. What're you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same," the drawing soldier said. "I am trying to capture Gale, myself. I want to be able to remember it the way it was when it was beautiful and new. War tends to burn those kinds of things."

Though she'd never admit it out loud, the thought sent chills down her spine. "That's pretty morbid, Duck. What's your name?" she wanted to know.

"…Nova," he said after a moment, setting down the sketchpad to focus on her. She couldn't see his face well because of the dark, but she could tell that he was young. Probably younger than her. So many children fighting in this war, so much innocence lost too soon. "And you're Gavia. Of the Interceptors."

"Too true." She stepped closer to him, extending her hand over someone else's ride to shake his. It wasn't a surprise that he knew who she was- after all, her brother was famous. She pushed her purple hair out of her eyes with one greasy hand, smiling shyly. "Hey… if you could, do you think you could sketch me, too? I mean, if it's not too much of a hassle."

"I could put you in the foreground with Gale as the background, certainly," Nova said, picking up his sketchpad again. He was very articulate, she noted. Must be from a well-to-do family here on Gale. "Or do you want a new sketch of just you?"

"Only if it's no problem to you," she reminded him.

"Ah, see," he said, snapping his fingers. "That's just the thing. It could be a problem, since I don't draw models alone unless they're in the nude."

Gavia paused for a second, blinking at him. Then she started to laugh, one grease-stained hand on her hurting stomach while the other waved at him to stop. "You're way too forward!" she said, too shocked to be angry and too used to being around guys that age to be terribly insulted. "Come on, kid, you're like what- fourteen?"

"No, I'm sixteen," Nova said, holding up two fingers to indicate the huge gap between those ages. "And stranger things have happened, huh?"

They both looked upwards when they heard the engines of a sky patrol. The light flashed over them once and Gavia waved at them. After ascertaining who it was, the patrol moved onwards and the hangar was thrust into semi-darkness again. The lights were on their lowest setting, since Gavia had come here with the intent to not wake anyone up… except herself. Nova had returned to his drawing and, curious, she walked around the sky rides to stand behind him, watching him plug her into the foreground. She was about to comment on his skill when another patrol came by, illuminating the hangar just briefly enough for her to see the splash of crimson on his side. She gasped, holding one of his arms up and touching the gash in his side with her hand.

"You're injured!" she said as he jerked away from her, closing the sketchbook and stumbling away. "Why didn't you say anything? C'mere, let me see." She stepped closer to him again, ignoring his protests until he grabbed her upper arm, shaking her and forcing her to halt just in front of him. He may have been two years younger than her, but he was also almost two heads taller than her. She didn't understand why he was resisting her help. They were both Atmosians, both soldiers fighting for the same cause. That alone should have made them closer than average strangers meeting in the dead hours of the morning.

"Please," she pleaded, green eyes shining in the light of another patrolman. To see this new friend hurt now, coupled with the charged emotions just before a battle where dying was a very strong possibility, had her almost on the verge of tears. "Trust me."

He smiled. "I don't think so."

"I can help you!"

"Don't worry, darling," he said, pulling her closer and putting her hand on top of the bloody gash in his armor to feel that he was totally unharmed underneath. "It's not my blood."

And then she understood.

With a Sky Fu move she broke free of him, kneeing him in the gut to step backwards, yelling:

" _Attack! We're under attack! We're under-!"_

The blow to her face was so strong she actually spun before falling, splayed out on the ground with the sounds of the alarms a dull satisfaction to her whirling mind. Then Nova was there, straddling her and pressing her down. "Now why did you have to go and do that?" he asked her, sounding disappointed. "We were having such a nice chat."

"Get off!" she yelled, her eye already beginning to swell from the punch. His helmet rolled past her head and she saw him now, clearly, for the first time. The white hair and red eyes of the Cyclonian nobility.

"We could use soldiers like you in Cyclonia," he told her over the noise of the alarms. _Where are all the soldiers?_ She wondered in a panic _. Where is everyone?_ All she could do was glare up at him.

"Sure do, if they're sending kids do to their dirty work."

That struck a nerve in him. "I've sent no one," he hissed back at her, pulling at her purple hair. "This is _my_ dirty work. _I_ have come here for you, Gavia. To take you with me before the invasion force arrives. You're too special to die with the rest."

"Well gee, I'm so…" she reached up, head butting him and then kneeing him between the legs, reaching to her belt for her crystal nunchuks as he jerked off of her with a cry. " _Flattered_!" she snarled, sending a blast of purple energy in his direction. He rolled to the side, gingerly getting to his feet with his face scrunched in pain.

He pulled out his own sword, twirling it in one hand before lighting it up with crystal energy. Golden light erupted along the blade and he lunged at her, slicing horizontally. She leaped over it and over him, kicking back at him for extra distance and forcing him forward. They both whirled around when she landed, sending crystal waves at each other. The lights melded and then exploded in the air, meeting each other halfway and blinding them with the force of the waves canceling each other out. Gavia took advantage and sent two more blasts with her nun chucks, leaping out of the way of a few more golden arcs in an impressive display of acrobatics.

Nova lifted his sword, blocking her blasts with the blade and sending one more at her. She dodged that one as well, leaping on top of someone's sky ride and hopping along it towards the exits. Cursing, Nova followed her, sometimes jumping over Skimmers and sometimes just blasting them out of his way. Looking over her shoulder at her pursuer, Gavia cursed to see him gaining on her. She tossed her nun chucks over her shoulder and they spun, wrapping around his outstretched arm and jolting his blade free of his arm. She had only enough time to think, "Ha!" before he ripped the nun chucks from his arm and pulled out the crystal, pointing it at her. An explosion shot from the crystal and a purple hand gripped her as she tried to escape, clutching her tight enough to stop her breath and snatching her back to him.

"Now," he said, smiling at her attempts to free herself, "Isn't this better?"

**OoOoOo**

**Fast Forward.**

**Present day.**

Rave hadn't been flying for too long when she noticed something odd. She was no stranger to raging winds, and she knew that storms were a danger to a sole flier- especially one without the protection of a Skimmer's armor- but this was different. The air currents were disrupted, she could feel, almost as if there was someone flying next to her. As though to dispel her doubts, she took a sudden right turn and flew towards whatever it was.

Imagine her surprise when the edge of her board knocked against something very solid when her eyes said there was nothing there. She jerked away before she broke her board, whipping out her slingshot and loading an explosive crystal pellet. The shield came down, and none other than Cyclonis controlled the wheel of Piper's heli-scooter.

"About time you noticed me," Cyclonis complained, leveling her staff at Rave and blasting. Rave whirled, barrel rolling while careful not to lose the stuff in her backpack, slinging off a few stones while upside down. She dove, and Cyclonis followed her down into the Wastelands. Spiraling around spires of rock, ducking just out of reach of the snapping jaws of magma worms, they went through the motions of a dangerous dance. Rave led. Cyclonis followed.

Turning her head, Rave saw Cyclonis lagging and grinned. She tilted the nose of her board upwards, sharply turning upside down and flying back towards the girl. Pulling the remote out of her belt pouch and setting it for hover, she leapt onto Piper's heliscooter and punched that bitch right in the face.

And man, it felt good.

Cyclonis switched the heliscooter to autopilot herself, getting up on- Rave was surprised to see- both her feet. No cast in sight. Crouching, with the hot winds and the ash of burning brimstone clogging her throat, Rave bared her teeth at her former Master.

"So you _can_ walk!" she said, grinning brutally. "Good. Then I won't feel so guilty when I crush your ass!"

"I'm not here to fight," Cyclonis said, but she had her staff in hand anyway.

"Too bad!"

Rave pulled out her slingshot, extending the shaft until it was almost three feet long and bringing it down over Cyclonis's head. She blocked it, deflecting it away, and Rave almost lost her balance on the heliscooter. Jabbing in with the Y part of the slingshot, she caught Cyclonis's staff between the prongs and twisted it out of the Empress's hands.

Unarmed, Cyclonis jerked out of the way of a stabbing blow, pulling out a thin red crystal with a sleight of hand trick she'd often used to catch opponents off guard. Jolting Rave sharply enough to stun her, she lifted one foot and caught her in the chest, knocking her off the heliscooter. Rave fell, pulling out her remote control to have the board come to her but before she could, Cyclonis was diving alongside her, swerving in to catch her just before her board reached her feet. She landed on the floor of the scooter with a thud and Cyclonis pressed her foot down on the Bangledon's chest to keep her there. Her long legs dangled dangerously over the side and she savaged Cyclonis's leg with her claws but to no avail- she might as well have been blowing kisses for all the Empress reacted to it.

A magma worm lurched at them, jaws snapping, and Cyclonis flew up and away, landing on a safe patch of rock. The impact of the landing knocked Rave free and she rolled in the dirt, trying to get to her feet but before she could the glowing purple tip of Cyclonis's staff was under her chin and she couldn't move.

Rave snarled, not saying a word.

"You should be grateful Piper loves you," the Empress said, pulling a green crystal out of her sleeve now. One graceful, white eyebrow quirked upwards, her mouth a carefully maintained neutral nothing. "It's for that reason alone that this won't hurt as much as it could."

And when she blasted the bangledon again, it _did_ hurt. It hurt enough to have her screaming, but no one heard her except the beasts and the burning winds of the Wastelands.

**OoOoOo**

**Limbo.**

**All Times. All Places.**

But the sound of screams don't travel as far as we'd like to think they do.


	20. This Time Is The Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There, is a tree swinging  
> And voices are  
> In the wind's singing  
> More distant and more solemn  
> Than a fading star."

**Piper.**

I knew that last night was Finn's turn for the graveyard shift. I also knew that the next day- today- was Finn's turn to play his music. Put two and two together gets you loud rock music as your alarm clock. At least, that's what I expected when I went to bed. I prepared myself for the distinct possibility that as soon as the sun came up we'd be bombarded with Lobster Telephone screaming at us through the intercom.

So I woke up and put on my gym clothes at my usual time, skipping my weird altar-incense-death-worship-Goth-whatever in favor of hurrying over to the bridge where the intercom is controlled. But to my surprise, I find Finn just lying on the couch, a pillow over his face as he swayed his hand to the beat of the music playing at a low volume from the record player.

I look from him to the record player, not understanding.

"Hey, Finn?" I say.

"Yeah?" he says to me from under his pillow.

I twist my mouth uncertainly. At the risk of putting my eardrums through severe trauma, I tell him the truth. "You know it's your turn to play your music, right?"

"Yeah?"

"…you know you're listening to my B. B. King records, right?"

_You upsets me, baby. Yeah you upsets me, baby. I'm telling you people she's something fine that you really ought to see. Well she's, not too tall, complexion is fair, man she knocks me out the way she wears her hair. You upsets me, baby. Yes you upsets me, baby._

"…Yeah?"

I stop. "Oh. OK then." After a moment of waiting around for Finn to explain himself, I just shrug and leave the bridge with the sound of B.B.'s mournful yelling seeing me out.

_Like being hit by a fallin' tree- Woman, woman what you do to me?_

**OoOoOo**

I had just finished my morning practice and was on my way to the showers when I ran across the puppy. He's curled up in front of my door, tail wrapped around his nose and eyes dejected. I come to a complete stop for the second time this morning, thinking, a towel slung over my damp shoulders and a bottle of water in my hands. "Hey there, little guy," I say, hefting him up and cuddling him. He puts up no resistance, resting limply in my arms. He smells good, and I wonder if Lark is the one who washes him. He's also getting some fat back on his ribs, a far cry from how we found him. "Where's your friend, huh?" I ask him, playing with his paw. He doesn't even react like a puppy should, not trying to bite or play with me at all.

Just after I say the words, I look upwards at the doors to my own room, the figurative light bulb going off in my head.

Knowing the puppy never went anywhere Lark wasn't, I sigh in exasperation and push my doors open. Sure enough, Lark is crouched by my desk, opening the drawer. She jumps upwards in surprise when she hears me enter the room, shutting the drawer with a quick slam.

Balefully, she glares at the dog. "Some warning you proved to be," she says. As soon as he hears her voice his head jerks up, triangular ears aimed at her like tiny radars. Suddenly animated, he wriggles in my hands like a furry, slippery little worm. I hold him far from my body because his paws are scratching me, trying to keep him still before he falls and gets hurt.

"Quick, grab him before he kills himself," I say, transferring the dog to Lark's arms. She rests on her good leg, stroking his head until he calms down enough to be let down on the floor, where he butts his head against her legs, biting any exposed flesh he could find. If it hurts she's not saying anything.

"You should get used to Piper," she tells the dog. "She's a good girl."

Get used to me. Well, he'd better, if he feels like staying on the _Condor_ when Cyclonis is gone. Tomorrow was the day when we'd turn her in to Atmosia, though it was something I preferred not to think about. I'll just deal with it when it happens. "Now, care to explain what, exactly, are you doing here?" I ask her when I've had enough watching her play with the dog and pretending she's not an evil overlord that I hate and don't want anywhere near me.

God. We got along so great when... Why did _she_ have to be... why did I have to feel...?

Shit.

Lark clears her throat, rearranging her crutches as she looks up from the dog. "Returning my staff," she admits, nodding towards the open closet. "I took it from here the other day when I went to save your sorry ass. Also, I'm dropping this off." She reaches inside the desk again, pulling out a toxic green crystal and tossing it to me. I catch it in one hand, examining it closely. It's structure is totally alien to me, so I can only guess as to what it does, but it seems to be some sort of alarm system.

"OK, I give up," I admit at last, looking up from the crystal to Lark. "What is it?"

"If Rave is ever in danger," Lark says, "It will turn bright red. Rave had some trouble letting me do it, at first, but in the end I made her see reason."

Shocked beyond words, I can only stare at her.

"No need to thank me. I'm just..." Lark shifts again, probably uncomfortable with being this nice for no obvious gain of her own. "Trying to fit into the whole "helpful" routine."

"...Thank you," I say, ignoring her request and sincerely meaning the words as I clutch the crystal to my chest. I knew Rave was gone when I didn't see her at practice earlier this morning, I just knew it. Finn's attitude this morning makes sense, too. Even though I was still mad at her for the way she flipped out at me, I couldn't help but sympathize with her as well. Cyclonis had hurt a lot of people.

But was Lark the same as Cyclonis?

"Didn't I just tell you-?" Lark snaps at me, red eyes flashing. I know where this is going and it already irritates me, so I force her to stop by pinning her against my desk, arms caging her there. She shuts up and turns her head aside, warily measuring me up out of the corner of her eye. "...What?" she says at last, not sure if I was coming on to her or if I was threatening her. To be honest, at this point I didn't even know what I would do next. She closes her eyes and turns her head aside. "Stop... touching me...OK? I can't be held responsible if I flip out and rape you or something. You don't know what you do to me, Piper."

I do. I know better than she thinks.

"You can't…" _rape the willing_ , was what I was going to say, but I stop myself before that insanity escapes my lips. What was I going to say to explain this? "I mean, can't you try to be a little more graceful?" I say at last, the words barely making it past my grit teeth. "Learn how to accept a compliment without being sarcastic. If someone thanks you, you should say _you're welcome_. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?"

"My mother died giving birth to me. That gives me license to be sarcastic."

"And your father was Cyclonis."

"Sure was. And your dad is dead, too, oh boo-hoo. We're a regular pair of misfits, aren't we?" Balancing her crutches just under her arms, she grabs me by the front of my shirt, keeping us locked there together in my room. It's hard to tell who's holding whom now. "You know, some days I would think to myself that if we only had normal lives we could have been friends," she says to me, voice surprisingly even. I don't know how she can do that, when I'm on the verge of losing control myself. "But I don't think that's true anymore. I think if we were normal we would hate each other more than we do now, because at least now we have our shitty pasts and obsessive natures in common."

This was only going to end in two ways, with one of us bleeding on the floor or both of us shocked away from each other by a sudden miracle that keeps us from fighting. But I doubt that is going to happen today. I figure that we're going to end up fighting again. "Why do things always end like this?" I want to know, trying to snarl but unable to muster up anything stronger than a sigh. Couldn't we ever have a normal conversation without one of us flipping out, or without her groping me?

Lark's answer is simple. "Because you're a bicurious little mink who pushes my buttons and I'm a very confused misandrist."

A long pause. "Oh," I say at last after I had fully digested the words. "That makes sense."

"Ah! So you admit it." That made Lark laugh, bitterly. She lets go of me and I step back, dusting myself off. But the tension doesn't go away, just morphs into something just as bad. Something weird that makes my heart feel sick.

"What about you?" I accuse her, suddenly remembering our first kiss, what she had told me in the confines of the emergency exit. "You were the one who said you weren't into girls."

"It's the truth. I'm not. I'm not even a misandrist, now that I think about it- I'm a misanthrope." She huffs, as though insulted by my lack of knowledge on this subject. "I don't feel attracted to people in general."

I put one hand up to my temple, conveniently blocking her out of my view. When I can't see her, it's more easy for me to think.

Cyclonis grips her crutches and limps a bit closer to me. "But I know I want you," she says. "However, I'm not going to waste my time if you're just going to moon over your green boy all the while. Or hey." She grins suddenly. "I could stop playing nice and force you. Then you wouldn't have to decide anything."

I can't help but cock one eyebrow up, my hand dropping to my side so I can look her up and down. "Please," I tell her, voice dry. "What could you do? Poke me with your little gimp-sticks?" Darting one foot out, I nudge at one of her crutches, making her lose her balance for half a second.

After regaining her balance, Lark manages to control her fluster. "Well jeez, you'd have to take me out to dinner first before we got _that_ far," he shoots back at me with a devilish grin, red eyes widening just a fraction to enunciate her point. Red eyes boring into mine, daring me to counter her. I want to look away from them, but know if I did, that would be submission. "You know it's possible that I don't have that much longer to live."

Here was something I could respond to without going somewhere I didn't want to go. "Which is why we shouldn't. Logically speaking, where can this go?"

"Nowhere."

"Exactly."

"But since when have women ever been ruled by logic?" she says, reaching out for me with one hand.

I stiffen, snatching her by her forearm before she gets too close. "Lark, no."

"But why?"

"You _know_ why," I snap at her, tightening my grip. I want to hurt her. Just as much as I want to feel the way she rests inside my arms again, to lose myself in her heartbeat instead of remembering who and what she really is. "This is ridiculous. You can't expect me to forget the things you've done. And what excuse could you possibly have? You were just following orders? You were the one who _gave_ the orders! You were Master Cyclonis- and don't you dare try to tell me you aren't still her."

This was such a long time coming, it's a wonder I didn't just implode after finally saying the words. I let go of her arm, thrusting it away before her bare skin against mine burns me, or corrupts me somehow like an acid. I wait with a beating heart for her to understand me and for her to find some sort of reply to my accusations. But she can't reply, of course, because there's no way to refute the truth.

And I remember the day when I called her out on her first lie.

_It's the Cyclonians who work for you! Isn't that right- Master Cyclonis?_

Even though her hair is white and long and her eyes that focus on me are red, the expression was just the same. In the first instant of rejection I saw them go wide with shock, her mouth opening to form some kind of reply, and then almost at once it was wiped away by an expression of pure calm. Her lip curled upwards nastily on one side like it does now and her chin goes up. In body language, it's a dare. It's everything about her that makes me just so god damned mad.

And then she speaks. "I did what was best for Cyclonia," she tells me, barely contained anger crackling like burning logs. Her red eyes simmer. And in the center is a dark, black place. It's like the center of Stork's eyes, I realize with a jolt. They have the same eyes, somehow, that take you to another place. Somewhere terrifying.

"Get out of my room," I tell her, looking away from her eyes because I'm scared of that place inside them. I don't care what message that sends, I just can't look at her any longer. "Now."

But even after she's gone, I feel like that black place clings to me and to the corners of my room, and that the faint smell of Merlop tingles my nose.

**OoOoOo**

**Terra Bogaton**

**15 Years Ago.**

**Starling.**

"No!"

I scream as I fall, hands thrown upwards by the wind pressure even though my skimmer is far out of my reach. I grasp for the handlebars anyway, not believing that there was nothing I could do, not believing that my parachute wasn't working. There's nothing in my mind but the buzz of terrified panic. And it's all I can do to just keep screaming.

It's cut off with a sudden exhale as I land, the slap of my impact coursing through my whole body and freezing my lungs. Surprisingly, I'm not dead. My eyes whirl around hazily, not understanding until I see the cushion under me and Vernal's luminous yellow eyes watching me with concern.

"Gotcha," she says, closing the hatch of the ceiling and steering the _Condor_ upwards.

Then Griffin is at my side, helping me up on my shaking legs. "I had a feeling you guys would need help," he said, looking upwards at the cliff where the Raptors were waiting. Snapping back to reality, I grab Griffin and shake him, fear making me senseless.

"You have to go up there!" I tell him. "The other Interceptors- they're getting slaughtered! We need help!"

"One cavalry with a side order of whoop-ass coming right at you," Finch says, loading his crossbow with a grim smile. "Where's Rissa? Damn it, I told her she was in no shape to be going on missions!"

"I don't know," I force myself to choke out, hands clenched at my side. I didn't see her. It was all so fast. It was suppose to be a simple recon mission, to see if it was true that the Cyclonians had enlisted the help of the Raptors. It seemed unlikely, since the Raptors never swore allegiance to anyone except other lizards. It was a quick mission, easy for the renowned espionage squadron, the Interceptors.

It wasn't supposed to end this way.

A blast rocks the _Condor_ to the side and we all go flying, smashed up against the far wall as the alarms scream in the background. Through the great front glass I can see one of the Raptors, firing missiles at us from his Bone Wing. Staggering to the cannons, the latch opens up and I open fire at him, screaming again. But this time it's in rage, in anger, in fear for my family.

"Hide, Stork," I hear Vernal say to her young son. "It might get bumpy, so strap yourself in." His foot pads patter away.

Griffin's skimmer shoots past me, him and Finch heading upwards to help the rest of the Interceptors. There's a swarm of Raptors around the _Condor_ , thick as flies. The shields are taking heavy damage, and everything is falling. Blue and gold light flashes before my eyes, and from behind me I can hear Vernal cackling when a booby trap catches a Raptor and sends him down to splatter across the rocks below. Then there's a rumbling explosion and the alarms scream louder than ever. Thick smoke reaches my nostrils as with a final shudder the _Condor_ starts to sink into the Wastelands.

"Shit!" I say, picking off a few more Raptors before closing the gun hatch and hopping off the cannon to run to Vernal's side at the controls. "Where were we hit?"

Vernal doesn't answer at first, back arched as she tries to pull up. Her long green fingers stand out stark white as she grips the controls, a strained whimper growing in the back of her throat. "Oh… Nowhere… important!" she squeezes out, somehow, her panicked yellow eyes seeking mine. I put one of my hands over hers and grab the controls as well, pulling with all my might, not caring if I pulled every muscle in my back as long as we could just get airborne again. "Just the engines! _Hey Griffin!"_ she says now to the radio, trying to send a transmission to Griffin's skimmer. " _Gather up the Interceptors and let's GO! There's nothing we can do here, the_ Condor _is_ \- eeeek!" she hunkers down and squeals in fright when another bomb catches us. The shields are long gone.

We're crashing.

**OoOoOo**

**Somewhere.**

**Almost Two Months Ago.**

**Someone.**

I knock on the door, a rapid, nervous movement that really didn't make that much noise. Oh no. Should I knock again? Or was it loud enough the first time? Wracked with indecision, I feel my hand stray to the keys of my ride. If she didn't hear me I could be stuck out here for a while. But if she did hear me and I knock again she'll think I'm desperate.

OK, maybe I am desperate.

Just when I'm about to lose all nerve and flee into the night, back to the _Condor_ and forget this madness, the door creaks open and she stands there in front of me, seeming graceful and poised even while yawning and rubbing at her sleep-filled eyes. She's wearing her pajamas, a silk nightgown that clung to her beautiful curves and only reaches just past her thighs. Even by Merb standards, Starling is stunning. Not to mention successful and famous, so it's no wonder Piper was always so crazy about her.

She blinks at me when she recognizes who I am.

"Stork?" she says out loud, just to be sure she's not hallucinating me.

I wave, lip twitching up in what I hope looks like a smile. "Uh, yeah," I say. "Hi."

She looks behind me, green eyes searching. "Where are the others?"

"Um.."

"You're alone?" she guesses, talking too fast. Thinking too fast. I didn't count on her being so sharp. I guess I just kind of assumed she'd let me in and not say anything. God, can't she give me a break? "Are you all right? What happened to Aerrow? And the others?" she added almost as an afterthought.

Shifting my pack, I feebly struggle for some kind of answer that would make sense. Too many questions! "They're OK," I say. "I just… I kind of need… I mean… a- a place to crash for a while…?" I shrink backwards a bit, ears clamping back against my skull in trepidation. Starling studies me for a bit longer, those strong, green eyes seeing right through me, it feels like.

"Of course," she says at last, stepping aside and motioning me in. "You and the Storm Hawks are always welcome here. Though I do want to know _how_ , exactly, you knew where here was."

I smile, just a flash of my old self shining through. It's a rather devilish smile. "A little birdie told me," I say. Then I realize what I'm saying and get nervous again. "Sorry, I just don't have anywhere else to go. Except the _Condor_. And I'm not feeling safe there anymore." I swallow a lump in my throat, shrinking back again. "You know what? I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. It's like, two in the morning. God!" I smack my forehead. "I'll- I'll just-" I whirl around to leave but she catches my shoulder, practically dragging me inside.

"Sit," she orders me when we reach the kitchen, me struggling and protesting the whole way. I stand awkwardly in her kitchen for a bit, arms crossed defensively. "Sit!" she says again, and I sit, hands on my lap. After pulling out two mugs, she asks me if I want coffee, hot tea, hot chocolate, plain old water, or nothing. I tell her "Nothing" and she gives me hot chocolate.

"So," she says after playing her part as the domestic hostess. She settles herself down on a chair opposite me at the table, crossing her long legs and nursing her cup of hot chocolate in her hands. She watches me and I try not to notice her watching me. Instead I stir the chocolate and wish I hadn't learned to like human foods so I wouldn't be so tempted by the brown deliciousness in front of me.

"Um-" I start, lifting one finger to make a point.

"What happened?" she cuts me off. I drop my hand back to my lap, twiddling my thumbs.

"How about I say "nothing" and leave it at that?" I suggest, finally giving in and drinking the chocolate.

She smirks. "Well then, I would have to say: Go home to your friends, Stork. They're probably missing you."

Well, she's got a point. If nothing had happened, I wouldn't be miles away from my sanctuary just because of a girl. "What if…" I say, staring down at my long, green reflection in the murky chocolate. "I said it was too complicated to understand?"

She leans forward, resting one elbow on the table, and I'm forced to look at her and her prying green eyes again. "Try me."

Time to say it, Stork. It's so easy to notice her green eyes- that's the part everyone looks at, isn't it? At the eyes? They notice the color but they don't care about the pit, the black center that it all hinges on. I try it now, see again how hers spiral down deep into that other realm, and I remember why I came here in the first place.

But how to say it, when I've never had the guts to confront her about it before?

"Can you- can you hear the _Condor_?" I ask her at last, terrified to know the truth, terrified to see if she would nod or if she would stare at me in blank confusion. Limbo is so much more comfortable than knowing an absolute, undeniable truth. "Is that how you're always able to slip on board and off without setting off alarms?" I keep on, unable to stop myself all of a sudden. We're alone. The other Storm Hawks aren't here to meddle and ask questions. It's just me, and her, and the phantoms that hang around us both. "The way she responds to you is almost like me. She obeys you. _They_ obey you."

They, of course. Them. The voices, the song of the _Condor_ \- a song you can't hear, because condors are totally mute birds.

Instead, she purses her lips and sips her chocolate. "I knew one day we'd have to talk about this," she admits to me. That makes me think of hope, a small fluttering of elation inside my belly to know that I wasn't alone and insane the way I so often thought I was.

"You're asking me if I hear ghosts."

My heart stops.

"Well if you need to know- yes. I do," she says. She _said_ it. Like it was nothing. She doesn't even seem to notice my sudden dizzy spell, instead continuing to shake my world with her calm voice. "I can see them too, for some reason. When I want to."

I notice that she's waiting for me to speak. But I don't know what to say, at least at first. But I guess she maybe wants reassurance, too, so I let her know that we can be alone together in our insanity. "M-me too," I stammer, clutching at the edge of the table.

"Is that why you left?" she wants to know.

"I'm a merb, Starling," I tell her, one hand running through my thick green hair. Here was the clincher. I had asked her a question, and she had answered me despite what damage it could have done. So I guess it's my turn. "Merbs and humans don't mix. It's the law on Thanatos, it's the law on Tenebria. Maybe in Atmosia it's different but it's still taboo, if not illegal.

"I'm getting too close to them and I'm putting them all in danger!"

My voice raises at that last part and I slam my fist down on the table, shaking the mugs. Oops. I didn't mean to do that. But I'm not going to apologize. I haven't done anything wrong. I'm doing the right thing. Starling is a rational adult- she should understand if anyone could. But she surprises me by doing the last thing I'd expect a human to do. She starts laughing. "What, do the voices in your head say they're going to get you if you have human friends?" she says while I just sit there in total confusion. Looking at me, she fights an uphill battle against smiling and then bursts into fresh peals of laughter, covering her face in her hands.

My ears flatten again, but this time in anger as my eyes narrow.

"Don't give me that look," she warns me when she notices, suddenly sober as she points at me warningly.

"It's not something to be taken lightly," I say, still glaring at her. "If you can believe in ghosts, you can sure as hell believe in curses. Humans and merbs do _not_ mix."

"Your mother said that all the time," Starling tells me. It's not so shocking that she knew my mother- after all, she's old enough to have been around when my mother flew the _Condor_ , and the Storm Hawks and the Interceptors have always been close. I knew that.

"And it came true, didn't it?" I say. "The Storm Hawks died. They were the strongest squadron ever and they crumbled in an instant."

"He…" Starling stopped. "Their leader was betrayed. It had nothing to do with her. She didn't even die with the rest of the Storm Hawks- the two were totally separate events. Years apart, even. No, Vern died with the Interceptors, fifteen years ago."

"Her name was Vern?"

"Vernal, yes." Starling looks down into her chocolate, maybe looking for answers in the swirls. I don't know how she can still manage to drink it while we're talking about this. I already lost my appetite, even for chocolate. "And she loved you very much."

I sneer at that. "Oh, yeah. That's why she dumped me on Tenebria! Left me with those _savages_ before I was even out of diapers!"

Starling doesn't lose her cool in face of my bitter accusations. Starling never loses her cool.

"She didn't, though," she says, taking another sip from her chocolate. "I did."

I grit my teeth, standing up with the squeal of the chair legs gnashing against the tile floor of the kitchen. "You- _human_ -" I say, heart quivering at the connections suddenly being made in my mind. Of course! This is how she knew about Tenebria, when Finn was dying. This is how she knew about merlop. She's the one- the only one that makes sense, that fits the time frame, the description I'd heard from Olive when I had asked about the reasons for my father's murder! The human woman- my father's fucking human woman was _Starling!_

"So if anyone here is cursed, Stork," she says to me, ignoring my outburst yet again, the black center of her eyes reaching out to me. I'm forced into silence again, when faced with those eyes. Behind her I can see them all, hovering protectively over her shoulder, measuring me for threat potential. "It's me."

And the ghosts of the Interceptors stand behind her, silent, as witnesses to her testimony.

**OoOoOo**

**Cyclonis/Lark**

"Finn, we're leaving the ship with you." Aerrow throws his leg over the side of his skimmer, resting comfortably in the seat with his eyes focused on the blond.

Finn thumbs up him. "You got it, _capitan_. But before you go…"

He turns on me, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from the side compartment of his skimmer- which, of course, wasn't really his skimmer. Nova was most likely still flying around in his, which left the wingman to fly Nova's silver one. I find myself wondering if the cuffs are his or Nova's. Either way, I don't want to know what they were doing in the skimmer.

"Here's to make sure she doesn't run off before you reach Atmosia."

Well, this is interesting.

The cuffs snap over my wrists and I can't help but cock one eyebrow up at Finn, mouth twisting in dry amusement. When he pulls away, I simply slip the cuffs off and hand them back to him before he could even turn around to open the hangar door. Blinking in confusion, he looks from me to the cuffs and back again, not understanding. I wiggle my fingers at him, mocking his attempts to confine me with such primitive tools.

He sighs in defeat. "Great. So you're an escape artist, too," he says.

Grinning, I rest one hand against the wall of the _Condor_ , putting my weight on the leg without a cast to keep up the image of being crippled. "I'm a woman of many talents, Mr. Finland."

I had many teachers.

"Leave her alone, Finn," Aerrow says from the seat of his skimmer, fastening on his riding armor. "She won't fight us. Will she?" He directs the last question at me, green eyes so very serious. Red hair, ruffling in the sudden wind of the hangar opening. I don't answer him at first, just angrily ruminate at how unfair life is to give him the face of the side of the family that he actually likes, while I had to dye my hair black to try and forget my damnable, incestuous origins. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up and to the side, at Piper watching me with an unreadable poker face.

"Will you?" she asks me. I shake my head no, not trusting my voice. "All right then. Get in the scooter."

I do what she says. Even though my many consults are clamoring for me to escape while I can, I simply rest there in the seat, not reaching for the handlebars. If I had taken off in her scooter, Aerrow or Junko could have shot me out of the skies without a moment's hesitation. Soon I feel the scooter sink down a bit as Piper puts one foot on the side to hop aboard, her chest so close to my back I can feel her heart beating. Then her arms go around me, clutch at the handlebars, and we rocket forward out the open hangar door, leaving Finn behind with the _Condor_ as we fly to Atmosia. The shining city is right in front of us, and when we land we go straight to the Sky Council HQ.

Here is where things go a bit awry.

"Piper," Aerrow says to her just before we go inside. She nods and begins to walk away.

Alarmed, I look from Junko to Aerrow, perhaps hoping her destination was written on their faces somewhere. But nothing. Junko's hand is on my shoulder, restraining me with nothing but his pinky finger, and Piper is leaving me, walking away. Shit. But somehow, maybe because he was going easy on me, maybe because he knew what I wanted to do and couldn't bring himself to stop me, Junko lets me go. I'm free for a split second, and that's more than I need to escape. Kicking off my cast and tossing it to a surprised Aerrow with a, "Here, catch!" I bolt off in the direction Piper had disappeared. She's not too hard to spot in a crowd. Shoving past the startled pedestrians, I shout and tackle her from behind. There's a terrifyingly pleasing moment when I think we might just topple to the ground together but Piper catches her balance, stumbling forward before whirling around to hold me at an arm's distance, orange-gold eyes shocked.

Take a deep breath and say it, you miserable creature.

Oh, fuck it. I can't breathe, anyway.

"They…" I squeeze out the words before my pride catches up to me, along with Junko and Aerrow, to take me to the only possible outcome of this day. "They're going to kill me and you know it!" Taking advantage of her momentary shock, my hands grip her bare, warm shoulders before moving up to her face. My thumb runs along her dark jaw line and I can't stop my mouth from following it. That snaps her out of it and she tries to get my wandering hands off of her, but I'm persistent when I'm desperate.

"You said you'd cooperate!" she accuses me, grabbing my wrists at last and holding them safely downwards, eyes darting now behind me to search for my pursuers.

Shit shit shit shit. She's right. I almost feel guilty, but then I remember- _wait just a god damn second. I don't_ do _guilty._ I slap her restraining hands away and pull her as close to me as I can when she's beating at me with her fists and wriggling and saying things I don't care to hear. Stop _resisting_ me, Piper. Just stop it. Stop it. _Stop it!_

"Piper-"

"Lark, I said no already! There's Nothing. Between. Us." She glares at me, her back arched to keep her face a safe distance from mine, giving me the impression that she's smaller than me when in reality we're the same height. But that has the fortunate side affect of pressing the rest of her body closer to mine, seeping away at the chill of my soon-to-be corpse. "Get-"

"Oh really?" I demand in a hiss, furious at her lies. Shaking her into silence, metaphorically and literally, with the anger that gives my thin limbs strength. " _Nothing_? Then let me _show_ you something!"

Her eyes flash with emotion, making my pulse jump. I'm excited at this new, living energy I can feel as surely as I can feel my ghosts, my ghosts being neglected in favor of this squirming, delightfully warm creature in my arms. "Get away from-!"

I cover her mouth with mine, right there in the streets of Atmosia. People stare, but let them stare. Let them see Piper share a passionate moment with a mysterious white-haired woman. Maybe then she'll stop the bullshit and face the music- so she's gay, so what? So stop hiding it behind closet doors and merbs who don't deserve her body's perfection and her mind's flaws. I can see her life, the possibilities in it. The way she shines, her pathetic dead star of hope, giving me hope.

I see stars when she punches me.

Before I can even recoil she pushes me away from her, sharply, between my outstretched arms and stays there in that posture with her hands out, feet spread, quivering with rage and fear. I've taken a lot of blows to the head in recent times, and the shock of a month old wound makes the rest of my head ache and I'm incapacitated- more so than I should have been at such a flimsy punch.

Her voice is low as she finally gets to finish her statement, every word grating and violent. "Get away from me," she says, that old danger radiating from her again, that willingness to rip my throat out and become a bad guy, just like me, just like Aerrow, just like Stork, just like anyone who can murder someone else. The heart's virginity. For a moment I can only stand there in shock. But then I just smile at her, head tilted to the side. My ghosts press comfortingly around me, making me cold again after my moment of insanity.

I am calm now.

And now I can look at this rationally enough to be able to have the last laugh.

"All right," I tell her, to leave my mark on her oh so impressionable conscience. This is my parting gift, since she was kind enough to let me touch her one last time, no matter how briefly.

"I'll go." I step backwards, wanting to bow, to show her that she really was my only true equal, but I resist the urge. It's easier to resist than her lips. "I'll go as _far away_ as I _possibly_ can, Birdie."

An endless amount of time passed in the fifteen seconds it took for Aerrow to catch me and drag me back to the Sky Council.

He looks from me to Piper, and I can tell he knows.

"…You know what you have to do," he tells Piper as we leave to my execution.

It's time to go meet my demons.


	21. The Leaving Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those who have passed with direct eyes,  
> To death's other kingdom  
> Remember us- if at all-  
> Not as lost, violent souls  
> But as the hollow men

**Terra Bogaton.**

**Fifteen Years Ago.**

**Starling.**

Thick smoke reached her nostrils as with a final shudder the _Condor_ started to sink into the Wastelands. " _Shit_!" Starling said, picking off a few more Raptors before closing the gun hatch. Hopping off the cannon seat, she ran to Vernal's side at the controls. "Where were we hit?"

Vernal didn't answer at first, back arched as she tried to pull up. Her long green fingers stood out stark white as she gripped the controls, a strained whimper growing in the back of her throat. "Oh… Nowhere… important! Just the main engines!" she squeezed out somehow, her panicked yellow eyes seeking Starling's green ones. The Interceptor put one of her hands over the merb's and grabbed the controls as well, pulling with all her might, not caring if she tore every muscle in her back as long as they could just get airborne again. " _Hey Griffin!"_ Vernal said now to the radio, trying to send a transmission to Griffin's skimmer. " _Gather up the Interceptors and let's GO! There's nothing we can do here, the_ Condor _is_ -" she hunkered down and screamed in fright when another bomb caught them. The shields were long gone.

They were crashing.

"Come on!" Starling shouted, grabbing her by the middle and dragging her away from the controls. The front glass cracked as another bomb hit them and they went tumbling down, rolling across the floor which had now become the wall as the _Condor_ tilted. Starling's skimmer was trashed, there was no way off the _Condor_ unless they wanted to jump into the Wastelands. But Starling had another idea, the only chance they might have of making it when the _Condor_ would inevitably hit the ground.

Vernal struggled with the Sky Knight, still reaching for the steering wheel. "No, wait!" she said. "I can still-"

"We're crashing, Vern! There's nothing you can do- now _move_!" She didn't know how she did it, but Starling managed to take the protesting merb to safety. They ran to Vernal's room, skidding along the _Condor's_ hallways as the Raptors assault intensified. Kicking open the floor hatch to Vernal's secret chamber, Starling tossed the merb inside and hopped down after her, closing the hatch behind her as she fell. She landed lightly on her feet in the semidarkness, crouching and eyes searching around her while the _Condor_ rumbled painfully all around her. Screams of steel rent at her ears like the shrieks of human women as she sat down on one of the seats and strapped herself in.

It just so happened that she chose the seat right next to Stork, who had been patiently waiting there ever since the fighting started. He looked up at Starling, bundled up in his seat with his arms wrapped around his shaking body. "We're falling, Starly," he said to her, voice sounding very small and very frightened in the chaos.

"We'll be OK," Starling tried to tell him, but she was distracted by Vernal reaching for the hatch, still attempting to get back at the wheel. Growling, Starling launched out of her seat and physically dragged the merb from the escape, setting her down in another seat and pressing her down there with her hands on the mother's shoulders. "Vern! Will you stop it? Strap yourself in, it's the only way!"

"You don't know the _Condor_ the way I do!" Vernal protested, gripping at Starling's forearms. "I can save us! I can stop this!"

"If you get out of this safe, the only thing you'll do is die!" Starling shook her. "Think of your son! Do you want to leave him? Is that what you want, Vern?"

Verna let him arms fall limply to her sides, long green head lowered and her ears drooping to hide her eyes so that she didn't have to look at Starling. "Of… of course not…" Thinking she had convinced the Merb to the side of reason, Starling let her go. But Vernal shot upright again, catching the Interceptor by surprise and grabbing her by the forearm to bring her down as she brought her knee upwards to slam it into Starling's abdomen. Starling gasped, hunching over so that Vernal could chop down with her powerful green hand. Starling fell limp into the merb's arms and she sat the purple-haired woman down into one of the chairs, fastening her so that she was securely strapped in next to her son.

"You'll be safe here, Stork," she told him, caressing his face and kneeling to hold him to her chest one more time. Stork didn't say anything, couldn't say anything as he watched his mother clamber back up through the hatch and lock him inside.

Vernal found herself back at the wheel, talking to no one. At least, no one that could be seen with just the eyes.

"I guess this time I have to go all the way…"

**OoOoOo**

**Just Outside Cyclonia**

**Eight Years Ago.**

**Lark- Nine Years Old.**

The engines on her heliscooter sputtered, jerking her forward a few more feet even as she began to lose altitude. Cursing through the black wool scarf that protected her face from the rain and from bugs smashing into her mouth at break neck speeds, Lark scanned the skies for some sort of landing place. The heliscooter hiccupped again and her heart froze in fear when she felt the rumble of the engine fall deathly still. The heliscooter sank like a rock, tilting to the side as Lark clambered off it and leaped for her life, pulling on the cord to her parachute. The winds carried her up and around like a paper kite and she held on for dear life to her backpack, hunched into a ball with her eyes tightly shut. All around her, the storm raged on, dragging her so far off course she couldn't have told you if she was in Atmosia or in Cyclonia.

And then her head snapped against an outcrop of rock and she hung limply in her parachute straps, letting the winds take her far from home.

…

She awoke when a stinging pain in her head slapped her free from the darkness of sleep. Someone was holding her head, touching it and setting it afire with agony. She struggled with the hands, not aware that they were the same ones that had saved her from the storm, not aware that they were trying to help her. Outside the cave, lightning struck and she screamed in fright, the sudden illumination letting her see the blood red eyes that were more than eyes, the otherworldly element of that thunder letting her hear the screams of madness for the first time, but not for the last.

Shuddering, she collapsed again…

…

The next time she roused herself, it was slowly, with every muscle in her body complaining against being used so soon. She ignored them and forced her gummy eyes to open and look around her to see that she was back, safely in her room in the palace at Cyclonia. A man stood with his back to her, perusing her collection of crystal handbooks and thick tomes of Atmosian and Cyclonian history. One gloved finger ran over their spines, the other clasped behind his back as though afraid he might touch them and break them. The man's head was covered by the thick black hood of a Cyclonian patrolman, but the frame of his body and the broad, strong set of his shoulders were as familiar to her as her own face.

"Immer?" she asked, half getting out of bed and a true smile lightening her surly face like a sunrise.

The man whirled around, red eyes measuring her calmly. "No," Nova said, and the princess immediately shrank back under the covers, the white curtain of her hair a convenient shield against having to look at her fiancé directly. Nova walked over to the side of her bed, clasping the top of her head with one big hand. "You almost died, Lark."

"Well, I'm fine now, as you can plainly see. You can leave." She shifted so that her back was turned to him, pulling the covers over her head and shaking his hand off of her.

"What possessed you to go flying around in the middle of the night?" he kept on.

"I wanted to see the lunar eclipse. Alone," she added, hoping that he would get the hint now. Lark wriggled deeper into her blankets, unable to even look at the man she'd one day be forced to call husband.

Nova huffed under his breath. "And you couldn't see it from one of the tower balconies?" he asked her, voice incredulous.

Lark thrust her blankets away from her so that she could glare fully into eyes red as her own. Ignoring the way her body shook from the exertion of moving so fast, she hopped out of bed and ran to her window, snapping open the shutters and moving to the side so that Nova could see. The red skies of Cyclonia greeted him, cloudy and filled with storms. "As a matter of fact, I couldn't," she said stiffly, shutting the windows again. "Maybe you've forgotten that clear skies haven't blessed Cyclonia in over five hundred years. After all, you're in Atmosia all the time, hunting for ghosts."

"Griffin of the Storm Hawks is _alive_ ," Nova hissed in response, eyes narrowed. For a moment Lark was afraid again. She was alone with him, a grown man while she was still just a child. He could slap her for her pert remarks, or worse. But he stayed where he was, and she was rooted to the spot where she was, and he didn't threaten her with violence.

"So you're going out there to prove he's alive just long enough for you to kill him," she said, forcing her voice to be dry of all emotion. It was the only way she'd learned to deal with her so-called 'brother'. "Even though half of the Atmos saw him fall under your blade, five years ago. You're a real piece of work, Nova."

"I'm not the only one who thinks so," Nova said. "Recently, more and more people are claiming to have seen him, leading battles against our forces, even arriving in the middle of peace treaties between Atmosia's few remaining Terras. Why would the Sky Council lie about something like that?"

"To give them hope," Lark said, shrugging dismissively. "Griffin is a folk hero. If they start spreading rumors that he's still alive-"

"Not _still_ alive," Nova interrupted her, walking away. He opened the door. "He is alive _again_. He came _back_ , somehow. Or maybe he is still dead, just…" Nova pressed his fingertips against his throbbing forehead, red eyes staring out at nothing. A nothing that made his face go dark with anger, made the veins in his neck stand out. "…How? How did he cheat death, damn it? When I kill a man, he should stay dead!"

"You're chasing ghosts," Lark said again, twisting her mouth downward at his mad ramblings. "Listen- I've been having the sister watched for _years_ now. If Griffin were alive, he would have tried to contact her. She's in such grief; I've heard she hasn't spoken a peep since the day he died!" Her teeth bared in a nightmarish smile, red eyes lighting up with dark humor. "Trust me- These so called heroes are always selfish in the end. Men like Griffin can't let others suffer for them, because that hurts them all the more. And when a man is hurting, if the pain is bad enough he'll do anything to stop it. As one quite familiar with pain and torture I'm sure you could come to the same conclusion, _brother_." The last word was spat out with hate, laden with irony so heavy it could have taken form and sunk to the bottom of the Wastelands. "Personally, I think you're just scared a big ole ghostie is out to haunt you. Or who knows what twisted fantasies spring into your mind. Thanks for saving my life, Nova, but I want you to get out of my room- now."

Nova allowed her one last dirty look before leaving and slamming the door shut behind him.

It was only then that she allowed herself to collapse back into her bed, quivering, and fearing the future like never before.

**OoOoOo**

**Terra Atmosia.**

**Current Day.**

Piper walked back to the _Condor_ , which was resting in one of the dry docks that was reserved especially for the heroes of Atmos. She found Finn lying on his belly on the bridge, apparently having a staring match with Lark's puppy. The puppy also was on his belly, but his rump was wriggling from side to side. Piper stared, never having seen the puppy act this way with anyone but Lark.

" _Awroo_ ," Finn said, rolling over on his back. The puppy followed suit. " _Awroogaroog_!" Finn said, flipping over again to land on all fours, butt wiggling in the air. The puppy clambered to his ungainly paws and attacked him, leaping from side to side and barking nonstop while Finn rolled around the _Condor,_ protesting all the while. "Ahh! Ah, ya got me! Oh agony, agony! Blaaagh!"

He rolled right up to Piper's feet, frozen in a paroxysm of pain, arms twisted in weird directions. "Uh…" he said, looking up at her while the puppy bounded on his chest, licking his face and neck frantically. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, not bothering to hide her amusement. "Having fun?"

"Didn't expect you back for a while," he said, wiping his face with the back of one sleeve as he got to his feet. "What happened?"

"Aerrow didn't want me at the trial," Piper said, crossing her arms and averting her eyes. "I don't know. I guess he thought I couldn't handle it. He wants me to fix a few problems on the _Condor_ , keep myself busy."

Finn bent down to pick up the puppy, who wriggled in his arms until he was comfortable enough to fall asleep. "Do _you_ think you coulda handled it?" he asked her. "I mean… you and Lark were-"

"Nothing," Piper finished, firmly. The puppy blinked one eye open at her tone of voice, tail wagging uncertainly. In response, she reached out to stroke his head until he relaxed again. "I guess you could say it was a- a crazy fling."

"You don't strike me as the type to do flings, Piper," Finn said. "That's too cold for you."

"It was a fling," she insisted. "It couldn't have been anything else. Not unless I wanted to turn a blind eye to everything she'd done." Taking the puppy from Finn's arms, she hugged him tightly, burying her face in his brown fur. He licked her cheek.

She was surprised when Finn put his arms around her, squeezing her as well. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Piper," he said, one hand on the back of her neck.

"You smell like dog drool," she told him, grimacing.

"Shut up when I'm being nice, will ya?"

"…OK," she said, resting her head against his chest, the puppy held between them.

**OoOoOo**

"All right," Aerrow said as they stood outside the doors to the Sky Council. "If we play our cards right, Lark, we can keep you on the _Condor_ under house arrest, say you're too dangerous to be kept anywhere else."

"Wait- wait- wait just a second. So you _want_ me on board?" Lark asked them, looking from Junko's passive grey eyes to Aerrow's infuriatingly green ones.

"We need you right now," Aerrow corrected her, waving one finger in the air to silence her. "You're the only one who knows anything about Nova and his Harbingers. In return for your help, when all is said and done we're gonna let you go Scot free. To do whatever you like. But for right now…" he held up a pair of handcuffs. Raising one eyebrow, Lark complied with him, holding her wrists out for him to pretend he had her locked up.

"If I'm too dangerous to be kept anywhere but with the Dark Ace and his squadron, it would be more logical for them to kill me," Lark whispered as they passed through the doors.

Junko grinned and clapped a huge hand over her entire shoulder. "Just stay cool," he reassured her. "Aerrow knows what he's doing."

Lark stayed silent, considering the options before her. Though the last thing she wanted was to be buddy-buddies with the Storm Hawks (with the very possible exception of Piper) she clung too dearly to what little life she had left to want to fight them now.

 _What kind of soldier wants to save the enemy commander?_ She wondered. _Never mind the fact that I don't have anything left to command. If I was in their shoes, I'd… I'd do something so terrible there isn't a word in the dictionary that could describe it. Even after living with them for a little bit I still don't understand this need to be_ good _. This Aerrow has a messiah complex so bad he doesn't even realize he has it. Where do they get off, being so nice to me? Well, Piper wants me, but the rest of them are nothing._

_Nothing._

**OoOoOo**

**Terra Cyclonia**

**Eight Years Ago.**

**Nova.**

"Master."

Though his voice was respectful, Nova didn't carry an ounce of concern for his uncle, the man who (or so rumor had it) killed his own brother to obtain the title of Cyclonis. Lark's father looked down at him from his lofty throne, black and purple cloak covering his face so that all Nova could see were two burning red eyes, boring into his own.

"Dark Ace," he said with a matching amount of sympathy. "What is it this time, Nova? Another bastard you want made legitimate?"

"Not today, _Father_ , though you know my stance on that subject will never change." Nova's pensive, long face turned to the floor to avoid looking into those red eyes. "Today, I'm here to ask you a favor, on Immer's behalf. I want him to lead the next few skirmishes on the Atmosians, not me."

Master Cyclonis let out a long-suffering sigh, tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes. The lines age had etched on his face deepened, the shadows under his sleepless red eyes growing darker. "That would be a good idea, but I know you're not doing it out of any concern for your brother."

"Am I not allowed to take time off?" Nova demanded, managing to lift his eyes up to glare at his uncle. "I'm being stretched thin. I am the Dark Ace, but that doesn't make me immortal. I've been fighting nonstop for almost a full year!"

"We're at _war_ , Nova," Cyclonis said, standing up with one hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. "And don't pretend you aren't loving every second of it. I know what you are."

Two pairs of red eyes narrowed.

And then at last, Nova smiled viciously. "So do I get the free time, or what?"

"Only if you swear you're not doing it to go and stalk that pathetic little Interceptor again," Master Cyclonis relented, mouth twisted in disgust. "You're not to leave Terra Cyclonia, am I understood?"

"You know the reason I chose the Interceptor. The genetics behind it- it was genius. I would have never have figured it out alone, but with the help of the Voices-" Nova's eyes sparkled, hands clenching involuntarily as his heart sped. "My son was born with white hair! I saw it for myself!"

"I've also seen the bastard." Cyclonis cocked one eyebrow up. "He's nothing but a little clone of his uncle. Hair- eyes- everything. One hundred percent red-headed Atmosian."

"But he was _born_ with white hair."

"So was Immer," Cyclonis pointed out. "It's staying white that proves their compatibility with the Voices. Countless Cyclonian children are born with white hair only to change later on- you're claiming they're all yours, too?"

"I'm claiming there's a way to turn it back the way it was supposed to be. Ask your own Voices. Or-" Nova smirked again. "Are you too scared to risk opening your ears?"

"You have your free time, Nova. Do with it as you please, but I will not name a bastard heir to Cyclonia!"

"Then we'll just have to wait until _I'm_ Cyclonis, won't we?" Nova shot back, not even close to giving up. Cyclonis grit his teeth in anger, the oblivion crystal equipped to his sword reacting and radiating power. Not waiting to be dismissed, the heir to Cyclonia whirled around and strode out of the throne room, black boots stomping loudly.

**OoOoOo**

**Terra Atmosia**

**Present Day.**

"They're gonna keep you here overnight," Aerrow said to her.

Lark glanced upwards at the Sky Council, looking down at her from their lofty pedestal, safe behind years and years of stuffy tradition. It disgusted her. It showed her how fragile their manly egos were. Her father had never needed a dais or a big, high throne to remind everyone else who was in power. (Not all the time, anyway…) Neither had she. If you didn't already know what kind of devastation was standing right in front of you, you'd learn soon enough.

"Great," she said, eyes shifting back to Aerrow now. " _Then_ they're gonna kill me."

"Noooo," Junko said, patient with her after so many years of dealing with Stork's even more obsessive pessimism. "Then they're gonna have the full trial and we can keep you on the _Condor_ for a lil longer. OK?" he slapped her on the shoulder again, almost causing a few bones to snap, and then lumbered out the front door.

Three guards came towards her and she stiffened in her shackles, bristling like a threatened dog. They lowered their spears at her warningly, crystal tips glowing, and she couldn't help but smirk at how useless these Atmosian soldiers were. She could kill them with their own weapons, if she wanted to. There were enough crystals in this room to make the whole fucking beacon tower fall like the pillar of dominos that it was.

Then Aerrow touched her shoulder lightly, snapping her out of it. She looked at him hovering protectively over her shoulder, green eyes wide and expressive yet not revealing anything to her other than the fact that he was sickeningly heroic and loyal and friendly, a paragon of virtue that didn't belong in this world.

"We'll get a good lawyer," he said, "And we'll see you tomorrow. And would it kill you to at least _act_ like you're not a violent psychopath?"

Her lip twitched as she fought not to smile. "Maybe."

"Try not to break anything," he said as his farewell, transferring her over to the guards and waving once over his back as he left to go back to the _Condor_.

 _Play nice,_ Lark thought, _Be a good girl. Don't break anything._

_Right._

_Right._

_I promise. For Piper._

**OoOoOo**

**Terra Bogaton.**

**Fifteen Years Ago.**

Her green hand reached towards the sky, thrust upwards from the wreckage like a sick flower dying for sunlight.

"Oh my God- _Vern_!"

Starling scrambled over the broken glass and twisted metal, Stork hitching a ride on her shoulders piggyback style. She set him down and slid to the floor, tearing up the plates of metal that covered her friend, unearthing her at last to caress her green face and check her pulse. She was alive, but everything below her waist was still submerged under the thick metal ocean.

"Oohhhh…" Vernal said, eyes rolling around dizzily as they opened. "I knew it. I knew I could do it. I saved you, Stork- I saved Starling- and the _Condor_ \- I did it…"

Starling's hands shook as she attacked the remaining rubble like a mad woman, tossing aside sheets of metal and armor plating. Vernal was buried alive in the wreckage of the _Condor_. Stork crouched by her head, holding one of her hands, his eyelid jumping every few seconds.

"Starling…"

"Shut _up_ , Vern!" Starling snapped, trying to lever up a particularly heavy plate with a pipe she had found. "Just- shut up, OK? I'm going to get you out of here, and then I'm going to kick your sorry green ass for pulling the stunt you did!"

And then Vernal reached up with both her hands, grabbing the edge of the metal that Starling was lifting and yanked it back down on top of her. Her eyes went wide at the impact but she was soon calm again, looking up at the shocked Starling. "I'm gonna die," she whispered. "So could you please… give something to Stork for me? When he's old enough?"

The blood began to seep outwards, spreading from the point of impact.

And Starling began to weep, noiselessly, as the centers of Vernal's large yellow eyes reached out to her, enveloping her in a shroud of thick black velvet that eventually gave way to an endless white plain, where the whispers of the rivers and the winds and the soaring song of the crystals filled her whole body, reverberating to the sound of her life the way a tuning fork is struck and lets loose the sound that you want to echo.

And Vernal stood there.

"Where are you?" Starling asked, unable to stop the tears. (She asked that- where are _you_ \- because she knew she was still firmly rooted in the real world, one foot on this side, and one foot on the other, but that Vernal was long gone.) "Vern…? I can't see- where are you, Vern?"

"This is the _Condor_ ," Vernal told her, long arms sweeping expansively around her. "This is where I'm going to stay, for a little while. Just until you don't need my help anymore. Because I wanna stay with you a little longer cause I- cause I love you, Starling. Cause I love you."

And she grinned, face shining.

And Starling knew that her friend was dead.

**OoOoOo**

**Present Day**

**Terra Atmosia.**

They led her outside, to a private courtyard, where the guillotine was waiting. Lark stopped in her tracks, digging her heels in the dirt in a panic as they dragged her forward. "Funny," she gritted out to the head of the Sky Council, who walked beside her as she wriggled in the arms of the guards. "Don't you _try_ criminals before sentencing them to death?"

The treachery of it all was laudable. She'd done something similar, six years ago, to her own cousin-slash-brother-slash-fiancé. That didn't make her any happier when the Sky Council said to her: "Aerrow has a good heart, but he's too soft. He doesn't have the spine to do what needs to be done."

Well, wonderful. There goes her promise to Aerrow and his Storm Hawks, _shwoop, wheee!_ right out the window! There was no way she could keep up this whole I'm A Good Girl Now act in face of this, the end of everything. And even though she had nothing left in this world, no love, no star to dream and wish upon, no family or friends, no empire and minions at her beck and call, she still had Life, and that was too much to give up so easily. Kicking off the shackles on her feet, she wrenched herself free of the guards and snatched one of their spears, driving it through his throat. He gurgled as he died and she whirled around to deflect a wild blow from the other guard's spear, knocking it aside and lunging in. He jumped backwards, stumbling over his feet as she attacked again. He parried, gaining his ground again now that the initial shock was over. All in all, he was a good fighter, but he was no match for hundreds of years of Cyclonian warfare culminating in one girl's disturbed young mind. She smacked at his legs, sending him down as she whirled around him and brought the spear tip down through his back, piercing his heart. She wrenched the spear free, turning around again to be faced with yet another spearman roaring, his spear held high above his head as he brought it tip down on the crown of her head.

And he stood there. His arms quivered, the sharp tip of his spear just barely pressing against the flesh of her scalp, but no matter how hard he pushed downward it didn't budge another inch.

Master Cyclonis looked up at him, red eyes flashing. The crystal tip of his spear glowed with energy in response to that otherworldly pull. It shone, pulsing as Cyclonis grinned and forced her will upon it, pushing up and backwards to send the man stumbling, pulled along by the force of his own crystal. As soon as he was a safe distance away, Cyclonis let the crystal free. She broke it of its restraints, let its song burst from that miserable shell so that the whole courtyard could hear it. The crystal exploded in the man's hand, brilliant light shooting upwards. Fireworks. Cyclonis lifted her palms upwards to catch the ashes as they fell, eyes lit upwards towards the sky, and she thought: _Beautiful_.

However, she couldn't stand there and watch the fireworks, no matter how much she wanted to. There was still business to be done. The leader of the Sky Council was on his back, propped up by shaking arms as she strode over to him, spear in hand. He had a cut on his forehead, from the shrapnel as the crystal had exploded. It bled. It traced a path down the wrinkles on his aged face. It ended when it reached his jaw. It swelled with importance, gathering itself, and then it fell to the ground where the thirsty earth swallowed it whole.

"You'll burn in hell, eventually," he told her, skittering backwards in the dust like a spider. "For your murder, for your lies. You'll burn, with everyone else, when you do this. This life is transient- and in the next one, I'll have the last laugh, Cyclonis. And what will you say to your Creator when you face him?" He reached the platform and could go no further, but kept his eyes trained on her as she advanced, red eyes ruthlessly cold. "And what will you say for your _life_ , you bitch?"

" _Long live Cyclonia_ ," she said, more to herself than to him.

Because, honestly, he wasn't worth the exertion.

**OoOoOo**

**Meanwhile, on the _Condor_ …**

"House arrest?" Piper shouted, slamming both palms down on the table. "Aerrow, are you crazy? You never told me about this! You said we'd go to Atmosia, turn her in and leave! And now you want her back? After we came all the way to Atmosia to report about the Interceptors and turn her in, you want her _back_?"

"Whoa," Junko said, lifting his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Calm down now, Piper. Lark still can help us with finding Nova and the Harbingers, and-"

"No, I will not calm down!" Piper shot back before he could finish, quivering. "I don't want Cyclonis on the ship, Aerrow! You promised me we'd get rid off her!"

"I-"

"You _promised_!"

Aerrow bit his lip. "I know," he said. "But even this is only temporary. There might be some tension, because I know you don't want her around-"

"Neither do I," Finn chimed in, plopping himself down on the seat and glaring belligerently at their leader. "I'm with Piper on this one. If we take her back we're gonna regret it, Aerrow. It's just not a good idea, no matter how you look at it."

"And I don't trust a word that comes out of her mouth," Piper kept on, crossing her arms. "Anything she told us about Nova is probably a lie. I bet they're not even brother and sister! What kind of family tries to marry direct siblings?"

"The twisted kind…?" Junko guessed, scratching the back of his neck.

"No." Piper shook her head. "Just no. No. No. She's not coming back."

Aerrow steeled himself. "You're not the one who decides things, Piper," he said. "We're a group."

"In case you haven't noticed, it's two against two here. We're equally divided."

"No, it's not." Aerrow couldn't help but smirk, lip twitching upwards. "Look down."

Piper's eyes darted down to see Radarr standing at Aerrow's side, one paw raised upwards.

"Three votes against two," Aerrow said. "I'm no politician, but that sounds like we win the election." At the expression on Piper's face, Aerrow lost his buzz, just like he knew he would, but he tried to be strong anyway. His expression softened and he went to stand next to Piper. "Listen, Mom," he said, elbow resting on her shoulder and hand plopping on top of her head. "Hasn't it ever occurred to you that… people can change?"

"They can't change that much," Piper said, eyes narrowed at him as she shook his hand off.

"There are a few four-letter words I don't like on this ship," Aerrow said. " _Can't_ is one of them. _Can't_ is what they said to us!" He added, looking up at the rest of his crew with one hand clenched into a strong fist. "They said I _Can't_ be a Sky Knight, they said Wallops _Can't_ read, they said Finn _Can't_ grow up-"

"Hey!"

Aerrow ignored that, instead putting his gloved fingers under Piper's chin and making her look up at him. His green eyes melted her anger, like they always did. She felt herself drawn to him, arms wrapping around his waist to hug him tightly because she was scared. "And they said girls can't be fighters. But you're one of the best fighters I know. You're my friend. And we need you. OK?"

" _Pleeeease_?" Junko added, clasping his hands together, grey eyes going wide. They darted from Finn to Piper. "Please, Finn? I mean, maybe Cyclonis and us can be friends, right? Maybe she can change. Maybe everything will be better. She's so strong, the only reason she's bad is cause she just… she just never knew anything else, I bet. Her family was so twisted, I mean, I had my Aunt Eunice and she taught me about bad and good, and then I had you guys, but nobody never taught Lark about things like that. But we could help her." His ears shot up straight to accentuate his point, a big grin crossing his face at the possibilities he suddenly saw. "We could guide her to the good things, and teach her about how wonderful life is. She didn't have anything to guide her, Piper. Don't tell me that doesn't make you sad." He stopped, and his long ears dropped to hang down beside his cheeks. "Because- because it makes _me_ sad. Like an Alice Matter song, sad."

"…She didn't have a star," Piper murmured against Aerrow's neck, eyes closing. "Not even when she thought she did, she…"

"What?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Nothing." Piper pulled away, crossing her arms again as she sighed. "Nothing."

Finn didn't say anything through all of this, just reclined in his seat with his hands cushioning the back of his head. He pulled out his sunglasses near the end and stared up at the ceiling, mouth a thin, emotionless line.

"Finn?" Aerrow asked him.

"Whatever you guys want," he said, turning aside. "I've dealt with worse."

Aerrow grinned. "All right then. Tomorrow, we'll go to the trial, put her under house arrest, and do whatever we can to stop Nova and the Harbingers!"

Finn lurched up to his feet, hands clenched at his side. "Whatever, Aerrow," he said, "I just-"

And that was when the explosion rocked the _Condor_ to the side, and sent them all tumbling to the ground.

**OoOoOo**

The explosion knocked her senseless for a few moments. She lay on the ground with the spear still in her hand, shocked out of motion. And then she got to her feet, irrepressible instinct to live forcing her to stand tall and look upwards at the Skimmer, who held the man responsible for the blast.

Nova saluted her with his blade, golden velocity crystal still burning. It was a hybrid, she could tell just by looking at it. Velocity/Striker. An unstable mix if there ever was one, but it performed flawlessly due to its expert craftsmanship. She had designed it herself, specifically for him. It had been a gift.

From somewhere not too far away, she heard the sound of more canons being fired, of buildings crumbling where they stood. The terribly familiar sounds of death reached her ears and she felt her knees tremble as the immortal god of war hovered closer to her, boots finally stepping down onto the dusty earth and walking towards her. The spear dropped from her nerveless hands.

"No," was all she could say.

"Oh, yes." Then he was upon her, grabbing her by the forearm and dragging her along. She fought him- she always fought him, ever since the beginning she had fought him- but that wasn't true, was it? There was a time… there was a time when…

 _No_.

Not now, not ever again!

But before she could break free, Immer was there at her side, holding out one of her arms and emotionlessly gazing into her eyes as he plunged a needle into it, emptying it out into her system.

Too fast.

They were just too damn fast.

Her hazy vision went abruptly blank, and the last thing she felt was her head lolling backwards to gaze up at Atmosia's bright blue sky being filled with Cyclonian war barges.


	22. Materialist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?  
> Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?  
> Was it humility, to feel so honored?  
> I felt so honored.  
> And yet those voices:  
> "If you were not afraid, you would kill him!"

**Stork**

_She was the focus point._

**Six Years Ago**

**Terra Tenebria**

The tunnel was small, but so was I. I was bigger than the tallest merb hunter at twelve years old, but not nearly as tall as I am now. So I wriggled inside the safe area, cramped inside with the damp, dark earth rubbing against my shoulders like a comforting friend. Even the creepy crawlies here were safe, non-poisonous, and not big enough to eat me. In fact I could have eaten them, if I felt like it. They were just that small. Small like me.

I sat and I tried to talk to the ghost who was beyond a doubt my mother.

It frustrated me that she never answered my questions, so for the most part I ignored her and all the other dead people who sought me out. Ghosts were only good for one thing, and that was teaching me everything they could about how not to die. But this one who gave birth to me wouldn't even tell me her name, wouldn't even tell me how to get to the place where she had lived where glowing stones made Merlop look tame with all the wondrous things they could do. She showed me images, instead of words, but never what I asked her for. She transmitted what she wanted, when she wanted, and it was all useless. I could never fly if I didn't get my hands on a flying machine in the first place. More importantly, I couldn't avenge my father by learning about these beautiful, wonderfully deadly crystals that couldn't be mined from Tenebrian soil.

It did not help me kill and so it was useless to me.

And the last time I had actually heard her voice was… well, I had already forgotten. Some part of me thinks, this woman isn't here at all. These are just the vestigial memories of her, clinging to me because of the blood I shared with her.

I put my forehead against my knees and tried not to let my body quake too much.

"Snowfire?"

I looked up when I heard my name called, saw my older sister Olive clamber into my supposedly secret place and sit down next to me, one clawed hand careful when she held mine, careful not to cut me. She rested her head against my shoulder and I just stared off into nothing, my face deadpan.

"What'cha doing?"

"Going insane," was my timid, barely audible response, and I lowered my head again, my free hand digging into my mess of tangled green hair. "Having nightmares while I'm awake. Talking to dead people again. The usual."

 _The memory is fuzzy so I can't remember what we did before the_ thing _happened. But it was sudden- like the flash of a knife in sunlight, the fog lifts and the memory is brought back into sharp focus._

I fell backwards into the dirt, losing my balance after awkwardly jumping away from her _._ My eyelid twitched and my heart beat in a panic as she swore under her breath for having missed her target. "What- what the hell was that?" I demanded of her, though I already knew, it was just a truth I didn't want to admit.

It was the last thing I wanted.

_I could see it- the focus point- near the end, just before that final recon mission into Cyclonia that turned out to be more than any of us could have bargained for._

_The ghost of my mother- the only ghost who never actively spoke to me, yet still taught me everything she knew about flying- was visible to me, silent and detached. Her eyes did not judge. She was merely another observer._

"It's called a kiss," Olive told me, shuffling a little closer to try again. "It's what people do when they love each other."

"No," I said firmly, getting up to my feet, but I had to crouch in the tunnel. I turned to leave, half expecting her to try and stop me, but she didn't. I escaped into the sunlight and the safety of the real world outside that dangerous place, and I could breathe again.

 _The_ Condor's _ghosts weren't as pushy as other, strange ghosts I'd met before. The minute these other ones knew I could see them, they'd bombard me, try to use me as some form of connection to the world they'd left behind. The difference between the two, was that the ghosts on the_ Condor _stayed behind on purpose, while elsewhere the most common reason for ghosts was because the person was unwilling to take that final step over the river into that other land._

_And then there were the Cyclonians… A more terrible thing, I had never witnessed before._

"I'm a human."

Olive grabbed me, anger flashing. I was scared of her, sometimes, because I felt like there was something uncontrollable about her. She was the jungle and everything in it. She was the humid, thick, hot air that barely squeezed past my constricted throat, not enough to fuel my beating heart. " _No_ , you are _not_ ," she told me, looking up at me. My last growth spurt made me an extra head taller than her, but still I feared her claws. More than that, I feared her love. "Your grandfather was human- that doesn't make you human. You're a merb. You're a merb like me. It's OK. We're both merbs."

Those long claws tickled the back of my neck and she hugged me, cheek pressed against my chest, and I kept my arms rigid at my sides.

"So we could…" she squeezed me tighter. "Love… and it would be OK. You're an adult next year."

My ears pressed flat against my skull. "And?"

"And I could be your mate-"

"No!" I said again, pulling away and shoving her back. My arms went up, crossed, to keep her back. She was my sister to me, no matter what anyone said about us, no matter that she was a merb and I was a half-breed freak like my traitor father. Even if she wasn't, I didn't want her to touch me. I didn't want anyone to touch me. I just didn't want it. It made my flesh crawl, soft caresses or slaps to the face all the same I hated _all of it._

More than that, though, I hated myself, for this lie I kept repeating to myself and to others, the lie of not wanting to be touched somehow became the truth, and then somehow it still wasn't true. Of course I wanted it. But I could never have it. Not with a merb, not with a human, because I was just so dangerously in between.

**OoOoOo**

**Two Months Ago…**

"It was _you_!"

The words felt like all my wrath was ripping them free from my lungs and it _hurt_ **.** It hurt like nothing else. My eyes twitched uncontrollably as I gripped the edge of the table. The animal inside me escaped. I went insane, for lack of a more appropriate descriptive word. Flipping over the table in her face, the homey little table mats, the silverware all set out for the visitors she never received, her mugs of hot chocolate. They fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. She might have been caught under the table- it was heavy, it was wooden, that was actually what I intended to do when I knocked it over- but she was too good for that, I guess. She rolled out from the danger zone, coming up with a fork in hand. It whizzed by my face, slicing open my cheek, and even though I charged at my father's killer I wanted to laugh at how futile it all was. She turned a fork into a deadly projectile, for the love of Merb. She... She was just too good. She was excellent.

Starling was an Interceptor, official or not. Even if the Sky Council knocked her off the Sky Knight active duty list and put Kitten and her freak show up instead, she is one of the best. She's second-best, compared to Aerrow at his place on top of the whole Sky Knight Dog Pile, and I didn't even make top thirty.

Somehow this all ran through my mind as I snatched the fork out of the air as it passed and hurled it back at her, charging straight behind it so that when she ducked it I slammed my whole body against hers. She fell to the floor easily enough, but that turned out to be misleading because she did it on purpose to use my own weight and velocity against me. She pulled her knees back and kicked me over her head, sweeping out with one leg as she snapped back to her feet, a whirlwind of purple and soft silk. I rolled away from the kick, tossing a handful of broken earthenware mug at her face and my toes scrabbling on the kitchen floor for purchase, slipping in the hot chocolate as I blindly ran at her again, my fists flying every which way, just desperate for anything to connect. She moved smoothly around the blows, eyes heavy lidded like someone half-asleep. The palms and flats of her hands deflected every wild swing, even though I'm stronger than her she was trained to fight against brutes like myself.

The fact that every punch I delivered never even came close to hitting its mark threw me even further over the edge, and I just tried to pummel her down to the ground again but she hopped neatly over me, landed, and whirled around with a roundhouse kick to my ribs. The pain was intense but then she kicked me again with her other leg, not even waiting for her feet to hit the ground again, and then again, and then another spinning 360 kick to the side of my head.

 _Then_ the pain was intense.

And I believe it took only about three seconds, too.

When she saw I wasn't going down she had no choice but to kick me once more. I heard a snap, and my vision red with rage went so abruptly black….

…

The jolt brought me back to reality. The first thing I noticed, of course, is that I was completely restrained against movement. My first instinct was to pull free but when I did, the pain woke me up further to see exactly what kind of predicament I had placed myself in.

I was in a room. It would have been a pretty nondescript room if it weren't for the various tools of torture strewn about. My eyes flew from the bad to the worse, recognizing each method of death that the tools represented individually, and worse more if they were somehow combined. Then I felt the jolt again and looked down to see all sorts of wires pulled beneath the skin of my sides. I followed the trail of wires with only my eyes, unable to move so much as my neck. They were powered by a large blue crystal. The light in the crystal gathered together at the center, building up before charging down the length of wire into my system, delivering a small, irritating shock. It seemed pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff- that is, assuming that the voltage couldn't be raised to excruciating levels. This was, of course, assuming a lot.

"Don't worry, Stork. These aren't for you."

Finally I saw Starling, sitting nearby so silent I hadn't noticed her until she spoke. I had been so preoccupied with the means of death I hadn't bothered to look for their wielder. She stood up, walking towards me, and I shrank away in fear, my ears flattening. "This is the only place I could think of where I could restrain you from hurting yourself further."

She pulled something from another table and I snarled to see it was a needle. A _huge_ needle. _What now?_ I wondered bitterly. _Poison? If she was going to off me, why hasn't she done it already?_

She prepped my arm, warned me again not to move so much, and then shoved it in. I yelped like a dog but then bit my lip, looking up at her with as much loathing as I could pack into a wordless glare. "The machine is helping you," she kept on talking, concentrating on the needle and the job she was doing. I didn't see how her voice could be so calm in a situation like that- but then again, Starling is always calm. "My friends the Terradons developed it for me- it speeds the healing process, much like merlop, but not nearly as effective nor as fast." She replaced her small container once it was full and then took more blood from me, not stopping her smooth explanation. "It's for your ribs. I'm afraid I broke two of them the other day, but you really left me with no other option, Stork." She looked up at me, and- perhaps surprised at the expression on my face- she blinked. "Stork?" she said again. "Feeling all right?"

"How can you even ask that?" I spat at her, the gradual build up of all my old anger surfacing again, my teeth bared and the hairs on the back of my neck rising. "And what are you doing with my blood? Let me go! You have no right to keep me here! You won't get away with this, not while I'm still breathing!"

"Oh…" Starling's voice never wavered in pitch or in intensity, her green eyes snapping straight at me and locking our gazes with no way to escape. I suppose I had made her angry.

She pulled a knife from another table, nicked off a lock of my hair.

"You'd be amazed to know what I can get away with in this room, Stork."

With nothing to say in response to that, I could only swallow my anger and try to calm my beating heart. Apparently satisfied with what she had accomplished, Starling slapped a bandage on my arm and took my blood with her upstairs. "I'm going to let you stew over that for a while."

I heard the door slam shut.

_To be caged in is a horrible experience._

_But these Cyclonian ghosts- they were all locked up. The moment they die, whether they're ready to move on or not, they're caged in by the powers set up long ago by their ancestors. Generations and generations of Cyclonia all bundled together, ready to be unleashed into one fragile human mind. Thank God only two of them are born every generation who are receptive to the voices, or we'd have a whole army of super-talented Cyclonii on our tail._

_Generally, people don't stick around long enough to be caged like this. But somehow, everyone still manages to form their own shackles, fetters that keep them tied to the living world. I don't have those shackles- or at least, I didn't until I laid eyes on the_ Condor _. And then I knew, she was the focus point. I'd heard of them before, a way station between the two worlds…_

_A place so incredibly happy, but why? Why did even the freakin' ghosts feel love so strongly here? When every other day you fought tooth and nail just to stay alive, why? Why, when so many other squadrons had met their ends here, either the enemy shot down by our guns or the Storm Hawks getting shot down themselves._

_The history of every Storm Hawks is short, and it's bloody, and it's passionate, and it's confusing, and I didn't want it, I wanted the safety my mind felt on the_ Condor _, but I guess I didn't realize until it was too late that they came together in the same package. It's easy to get stuck there as a ghost, because of that love you feel there. But they stay because they_ want _to. It took me a while to figure that out._

_It was all those things that made the mundane… and the beautiful…_

_It made them all the more…_

_And before I realized it, I was…_

I guess I must have been asleep, because I woke up again to see Starling in front of me, checking the machines. I bucked, tried to pull against my restraints (those terradons must have known what they were doing. I was feeling better already), and she jumped back like a startled rabbit, reaching for her weapons in case I actually managed to break free. But no matter how much I squirmed and cursed and yelled and pleaded, my father's murderer remained free from my grasping hands and toes. Her eyes narrowed again, the moment of shock gone, and she went back to checking my vitals like she actually cared. _Better kill me no-ow…_ I felt like singing under my breath in that moment, eyelid twitching as I searched for a chance to escape. _Because your face won't be so pretty when it's_ blue _and_ bloated _._

"I hate you," I said instead, not sure how I let the curse escape my lips but it did, and Starling heard it.

She looked up at me with her eyebrows raised, mouth pursed into a thin line as she flipped the machine on. It whirred, and the regular little jumps of crystal energy burst through me again. "I'm very disappointed in you, Stork," she told me while I was busy trying to accustom myself to the sensation again. "Your tests came back positive for recent drug use."

I didn't say anything, but my eyes went wide at that.

"I figured there was no other reason for your behavior," Starling excused herself, shrugging. "So, I apologize that I took blood without your permission, but considering the state you're in-"

"I am not on drugs, okay?" I told her, my ears falling again as my voice pitch rose and fell with the stress of my words. I turned my head aside, not even dignifying her with my gaze. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"I find it a bit hard to believe myself, but these tests don't lie." She leaned against the table, crossing her arms as she looked down at me. I tried not to notice her normally sparkling green eyes, how they pierced me now and how they seemed flatter and duller than normal. I wondered if that's how I look, when I'm talking to ghosts. I gritted my teeth, glaring at the ceiling. She waited patiently for me to respond, perhaps for me to try and excuse myself or at the very least defend myself. But I'd be damned if I let this woman squeeze anything further from me, not unless she was willing to get her white human hands dirty again.

A small sigh escaped her lips, and she caved in to the silence game. "Well, with five unsupervised teenagers I suppose I should be grateful only one turned out this wa-"

" _Shut up!_ "

All four of my limbs stretched and my belly rose towards the ceiling, a small shower of spittle erupting from my mouth like a baby rainstorm. I'm ashamed to even remember it now, but I banged my head backwards against the table like a kid having a temper tantrum, so lost in rage I just started hurting myself because there was just no other way to express it, that totally lost and helpless sensation.

Starling's single expelled breath was small, and sad, but I never stopped screaming until she sedated me and left me. Alone, and in the darkness again.

_Well, I guess you could say I'd become something like a hero… I mean, if heroes even exist anymore…_

**OoOoOo**

**Immer**

" _Do you believe in God, little brother?"_

**Three Years Ago**

My mouth twisted in displeasure at the scene I found myself exposed to. Lark sat cross-legged on the floor, staring intently at the checkered board in front of her. One pale hand caressed her chin, dark eyebrows falling down and bunching together in concentration. Her dyed black hair was held back by a barrette on one side, showing that she must have been serious about nothing distracting her. There was a tense silence; then she moved, her long white fingers moving the long white chess piece, knocking off one of the black knights and adding it to the already sizable collection of dead pawns she had next to her.

"Your turn," she said to the empty space in front of her. The only thing about her that moved were her luminous violet eyes, flicking upwards suddenly to pierce the air in front of her with an unblinking, unreadable stare.

And slowly, one of the black pawns crawled along the checkered board.

_I didn't know how to respond to that, or if it wasn't just a rhetorical question. Nova was sixteen, and I was eleven, and Lark couldn't even crawl yet so she didn't really concern me too much. The fact that her hair was black interested me, and sometimes I would stand over the cradle of my half-sister when I was allowed to do so and I would wonder if she would be forced to live as I did, a servant to Nova. That was before, of course, she manifested and her hair turned white and her blue eyes were red as the blood we shared._

" _Probably not," I told him at last, when I had figured out that he actually wanted my opinion on something. He twirled his sword in one hand, long writhing snakes of sweat sliding down his face and splattering to the floor when he shook his head. My hand and indeed all of my right arm was completely numb by that point, after almost an hour of learning how to block and parry from the Dark Ace himself._

_The youngest Dark Ace to date._

" _Probably?" he echoed, halfway amused. He also sounded angry, though. "How can you probably believe something?"_

" _I probably don't," I said again, with more force this time. "I don't know yet. I'll tell you later."_

" _When?"_

 _Even though I didn't want to answer I had to, because that's just the way things worked between us. He was nice when he wanted to be and I was obedient no matter what, because at this point in my life I didn't truly_ want _anything. There was no room in my robotic mind for wants, simply needs, and responsibility._

" _I'll tell you when I know for sure."_

_Nova sheathed his sword, a jerking, swift movement that ended with the slap of metal hitting metal. "You know why I'm asking you?" he said to me, motioning that the lesson was over. I wasn't particularly glad because I knew there was still much more to learn, but my hand was aching and I think I might have been on the verge of collapsing. It wasn't Nova's fault, though- probably. It wasn't like he could know I wasn't a normal child who wanted things. This was how I protected myself, see, because if I didn't want things I couldn't complain when I didn't get what I wanted, and I was never, ever disappointed._

_I shook my head in response to Nova's question. "Why?" I asked him._

" _Because I've spoken to Him."_

"Lark."

I felt it was safe to call her that name here, seeing that she was out of her regal purple robes and so much more relaxed than usual. My half sister turned her head to look at me, eyes wide with the deceiving innocence of her round girl's face.

"Yes, _Immer_?" she called me my real name in response, the sarcasm in her voice making the word bite. Apparently, it was not safe to call her that name. I would probably need to stop calling her that altogether from now on, because if I'm no longer certain what her name is, I might as well call her by her title.

"I've brought you the Red Eagle," I told her. "Master."

"Ah!" she bolted upright, getting to her feet and pulling her cloak off of her throne, whirling it around her shoulders with a deadly beautiful smile. The wriggling extensions of her neckpiece molded together, casting a shadow over her face and yet her eyes shone all the brighter as she kicked aside the chess set, letting the pieces roll away into the dark corners of the room. "Excellent. Bring him in, I wish to speak with him."

I placed my fist over my heart and bowed so low my younger half-sister, the one I shared my mother with, towered over me.

"Dark Ace?" she said, and I straightened.

"Yes, Master?"

"You know I've given you freedom to leave whenever you wish." Reaching into her hood, she pinched a lock of black hair between her fingers, rubbing it thoughtfully. "I've discarded my white hair, so to speak. This ridiculous dichotomy of the Cyclonians ends with my rule. You could even try to kill me, now. End everything. Forever."

I didn't say anything.

"So why don't you leave?" she asked at last.

"Because I don't want to," I told her, and Carver was led into the room so our conversation was cut short, perhaps prematurely. It didn't make any difference, though, because we never spoke about it again. It probably didn't mean much to her, anyway.

Probably.

Carver's eyes swept from me to my sister, whom he'd never seen before. I was a familiar face to him, however, because he had been Nova's own spy for years on end now, and I was always the one to go fetch him when Nova needed information.

"So _you're_ the new Cyclonis," the Sky Knight said, grating, low voice sounding like a satisfied purr. "Aren't nobles supposed to have white hair?"

"Aren't Sky Knights supposed to be chivalrous and handsome?" she said back to him, but her tone was infinitely more soft than it had been with me. Still, the words seemed to have more affect on him that way. The self-made, widowed Cyclonis sat in her throne, her fingernails rubbing against the smooth stone of the arm rests. "So. You worked for my- _husband_ , and now I wish for you to work for me. Let me know now if this is going to be a problem, because I don't like wasting time."

Carver's lips slowly turned upwards.

"It's time you showed me- _me_ , not my unfortunate late husband- that you know the meaning of loyalty, Carver," Cyclonis said, liking his reaction. "I know from Nova that I can trust you; however, my own knowledge needs a bit of reassurance. If you please me, I can be incredibly generous."

In the blink of an eye, she was out of her seat and in front of him. He was startled, at first, by her speed, but must have had some strong nerves not to jump.

"Trust me when I say, there are going to be some changes around here."

"I am yours to the death, Master Cyclonis." Carver got down on both knees, pulling out his energy blade and holding it hilt-first to her. Smirking, she took it from him.

"What, do you want me to knight you?" she asked, examining the weapon in her hands.

Carver blinked.

"Yes, I think that's a good idea. Rise, Carver of Cyclonia. This is the true beginning of your life as my servant, and the start of a new world order," she said, and pressed the flat of the blade against each of his shoulders. And, as an afterthought, she ran one pale hand through his blond spikes, almost fondly.

He stood, reclaiming his weapon.

"Now go. I will send the Dark Ace to you with your new orders shortly."

" _Oh yeah?" I said, looking up from my buzzing hand to my older half-brother, the one I shared my father with. "And what did He have to say to you?"_

_Nova smiled, clapping one hand on my shoulder as he passed me to leave the training hall. "Nothing- nothing I didn't know already."_

_My brother confused me. "So you believe in Him now because you've spoken to Him?"_

" _Yes," Nova said. "But knowing He's there just makes Him all the easier to ignore." He paused, halfway through the open door. "And I think He knew that, too."_

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

**Two Years Ago.**

"It would be great if I could somehow sneak into Cyclonis's private crystal lab," Piper was saying, breaking my concentration. My eyes dilated, focusing in on her as my mother dissipated into the walls. She sighed wistfully. "Ah, man, I can imagine it now. Someone as rich as she is probably has crate loads of-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Aerrow knocked his fist against the top of her head lightly. "Head out of the clouds, Piper. We're gonna be in and out before they know it. No detours, no matter how shiny the crystals are. That goes double for you, Finn," he added warningly, looking over his shoulder at the wingman.

The navigator grew flustered. "Gloss isn't a measure of how powerful a crystal is!" Piper protested, as usual finding some way to argue even though that wasn't even the issue at hand. "The number of facets is generally a good place to start, but the best way to see how complex it is, is to slice off a shard and observe it under a microscope."

Finn rolled his eyes while Piper continued on, oblivious and desperate to prove herself by spouting off about how she knew soooo much about the world. "The thing is, the chemical definition of a true solid is that it has a repeating geometrical pattern that remains present no matter how small the sample is. Solids like you think they are- skimmers, pencils, even the _Condor_ \- they're actually not true solids, they're amorphous solids. So everything around you- your own hand, if you were to hold it up against your face- isn't even a real solid. Crystals are the only true solids. Y'see-"

"Piper."

Piper blinked and Finn tossed her the Cyclonian uniform she was going to be wearing. "Put on your goggles and shut up already, will you?"

Her anger flared, but Piper knew better than to argue at a time like this. "I'm just trying to impart a little knowledge with you all. I might decide to jump ship one of these days, and you'd either have to learn or get a new crystal specialist."

She threatened. But we all knew she would never leave, especially I. At that time I thought it was impossible for someone in tune with the _Condor_ \- as these other Storm Hawks had all revealed themselves to be over the years- to ever truly leave.

I knew I could never leave.

_And then one day, I remember seeing my mother._

_I was angry with her, or just angry in general and seeing her blank, stupid face there was more than I could handle at the time._

" _Why don't you say anything?" I shouted at her, safe and alone inside the hangar of the Condor. I was working on the Storkmobile when she caught my eye, so I threw my wrench at her and it of course just bounced against the wall of my bird, having passed right through her. Because of course, she wasn't really there. "Why don't you ever say anything anymore, mother? You don't even teach me anything anymore! You're just_ there _. Why don't you leave me alone when I tell you to, like the others? What kind of sick perversity keeps you here haunting me? What the hell is wrong with you?"_

_Her face morphed, and suddenly it was no longer my mother standing there. Sick at heart, I froze in the middle of looking for more ammo to chuck at her. And then I got to my feet, clumsy, like it was hard to do even that anymore._

_The ghost who stood in front of me with wide, sheepish, stupid, uncaring eyes was… myself._

" _Well," I said, eyelid twitching. "Just what is_ that _supposed to mean?"_

_And the ghost vanished._

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow- Present Day.**

" _ **And that was when the explosion rocked the**_ **Condor** ** _to the side, and sent them all tumbling to the ground."_**

Heaving a bit of scrap left over from repairing the _Condor_ that keeps me pinned to the floor _,_ I get to my feet and run up to the front glass, looking around for the source of the explosion. What I see, I just can't believe. Like a swarm of ugly red insects, Cyclonian battle cruisers- some the same models that I know for a _fact_ have all been wiped out- fly over the blue skies of Terra Atmosia.

"What the _fu_ -"

"Finn!" I say, cutting him off and grabbing him by his arm. I shove him in the direction of the cannons, barking out orders before even realizing I'm formulating some sort of strategy. "Load up the guns. Piper, get to the radio and call for reinforcements- anyone nearby with engines and a set of guns! When that's done I want you to pilot the _Condor_ to the battlefield and target the biggest cruiser you can find. Junko, head on over to the Council room and let the Red Eagles know they aren't dealing with normal Cyclonians.

"Nova is out there." I don't know how I know that, but I do. I know he's there at the front and center, leading the attack against my country. "And I'm going after him." I try to run out, out to the hangar where my Skimmer was parked and ready to fight, when four hands reach out and grab me, yanking me back to the front glass.

"No!" Piper and Finn say, faces mirroring each other. Both of them look so scared for a moment I almost just obey them without question, but then I shake my head and pull free.

"What? Why? I need to go after him, guys! We need to!"

"But that's exactly what he wants!" Piper says.

"Aerrow-" Finn's voice sounds like he's in pain. He holds on to me tighter. "You're the Fifth Harbinger."

That makes me stop. And then this anger I've never felt before, this burning fire inside my gut took control, twisting my face. "Good!" I say, shocking them away from me. "That's great news, you know why? That means I'll go out there, I'll fight, I'll die, and then I'll come back and fight some more! You guys got a problem with that? No?" Before they can answer, I raise my voice to a full out shout, hands clenched at my side. My voice cracks under the pressure. "Then _get moving!"_

Junko salutes and runs past me to the hangar bay while Finn loads the guns, but Piper stayed rooted to the spot, staring at me like she doesn't even recognize me. It isn't like Piper to lose her head in tough situations- but then again, we've never really had a situation just like this before, have we?

"Look, Piper, we don't have time for this! This is bigger than you and me, OK? Who cares if I die- _Atmosia_ is going to die unless we go out there and we do our job! And I'm the only one who can stop Nova. It's my… It's my…"

I'm out of breath and I don't even remember what I was going to say.

"Call for reinforcements," I say again, turning on my heels and shooting out the door, Radarr clinging to my neck for dear life as I reach the hangar. I blast out the doors on my Skimmer, arcing through the sky and making a beeline for the squadrons of Talons headed towards the dry docks. Already, around me I can see the merchant captains and their small escorts trying to get into the skies to help the _Condor,_ or at least run away, but the Cyclonian cruiser bombs are coming hard and fast and some of the ships don't even make it to the cloud line. The fire inside me grows stronger with every ship's skeleton sinking down into the Wastelands, every parachute malfunction, every stream of belching fire and acrid smoke that I just barely dodge only to feel the shockwave as the missiles hit another target behind me, and I just fly faster towards the Talons.

With a scream, I pull out my blue dagger and send a wave of energy towards them. The front line breaks, some of them darting up and down and to the sides while others are too slow. I count three parachutes falling down below me before I whirl around and charge them, running right into the center and striking left and right.

"Break formation!"

They understand that staying together just makes them a bigger target. Snapping out of their initial shock, they circle around me before rushing in. I fly upwards; they circle backwards and fly in random directions like twenty mutant flies putting on a light show, and each of them is firing at me.

Two gusts of wind suddenly blow past me from above and I look up sharply, expecting to see new Talons diving in, but instead I see mountains.

"C'mon, ye slovenly curmudgeons!" Shouts one of the mountains, a large, spiked wheel-like weapon held tightly in his hand. He throws the chakram and it spins through the skies faster than Repton's boomerang, slicing through four more Switchblades before returning to his hand. "Ye canna put oop ae real fight fer once in yer lifes? Yeeaaargh!" He charges down into the fray, bowling through the Talons in his obscenely large ride.

"'Curmudgeon' is the Captain's new favorite word," Mudkip confides in me, hovering close to my left as we all float around to be spectators to the carnage for a moment.

"How did you-?" I start, pointing at her, when her brother zooms in on my right.

"I don't even think he knows what it means," he adds.

There's a small bump, and I look behind me to see I have a passenger. Rave sits with her arms around my waist, making a face at her Wallop team mate. "Muk, you don't know what it means either," she accuses him. "So shut your big ole pie hole."

" _You_!" I can't help but frown at the Bangledon, an image of Piper's bruised face flashing through my mind. Perhaps sensing my hostility, she gives me a nervous smile and leaps off my Skimmer, somersaulting in the air until her board came flying out of nowhere to plaster itself against her boots. She rockets off to join her leader, and the rest of the Gogo Giants soon follow, screaming at the top of their lungs. I'm about to dive back into the fray myself when I hear it, clearer even than the smell of plasma after burn and the sound of screams and blood.

_I'm waiting, Aerrow._

It's so clear and cold I start to tremble in my seat.

**OoOoOo**

**Immer**

"He'll be arriving soon," Nova says from his position at the pilot's seat, his legs thrown up carelessly on the control panel as he oversees the battle, shouting orders into the intercom every so often. His red eyes aren't as relaxed as the rest of his body might suggest, darting everywhere, seeing everything, missing nothing. "My son. And then we can reclaim the world as it was meant to be- mine. And yours. And hers, if she behaves."

He nods now to Lark, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey next to me. She's not quite unconscious but not lucid enough to be of any trouble to us. I don't want to keep doping her like this- like I used to when she first gained the powers of truly seeing and truly hearing. The voices clamored so noisily in her brain she needed help to sleep. And now here she is, grown up at seventeen, and growing still more beautiful as the days went by. My bony little sister with her woman's voice and mad man's brain.

"I don't want to hurt her."

Nova looks away from the battlefield to me, red eyes narrowing. "You're not allowed to want things," he says. "You obey the eldest, and that's me. There's nothing else. I forgave you for helping her escape the first time; this time there will be no more errors." Settling comfortably in his seat again, he turns back to just in time to see the smoking Beacon Tower of Atmosia topple over. "Ha!" he says, putting me and my wants out of his mind again.

I have to admit, I feel a bit like laughing myself. But Nova doesn't know I can laugh. He doesn't know about the strange fits of passion that drove me, how learning about _wants_ made me stupid as I forgot about my robotic nature and flew after anything I _wanted_.

That is, that's how I was under Lark's rule.

Seeing Aerrow dead was the first thing I ever really wanted for myself, and to this day I'm still not sure why. Maybe knowing he was a remnant of Nova threw me into a rage, or maybe drunk on the freedom of Lark's rule I latched on to the first thing I could and poured my soul into that, because so much of my existence was already programmed to have only one guiding force in my life I didn't know how to function any other way.

So I poured my soul into hating Aerrow, and loving Lark, and serving her, and nothing else.

And then I died.

And then Nova came back. And he brought me back from my endless wanderings, the wanderings brought about by the fact that I still _wanted_ things. And what was I supposed to do? What could I have done? I am his other half, and this is the way we were born to be. I am here for him. I have to be. "What's going to happen?" I ask Nova, moving forward to stand next to him. I want to put my hand on his shoulder like Lark would let me do, but I was scared to touch him, in case our carefully reconstructed bond was broken again.

"We're baiting them," he says, twining his fingers together in a steeple, smiling thinly. "Aerrow is too much like his uncle to do anything but come and seek me out. Once he's here, the process will begin."

"You really think giving him white hair will make him ready to be the Fifth?"

Nova waves my question aside, bothered by my childish curiosity. "Who is and who isn't the Fifth is not set in stone," he tells me. "There's more than one possibility. _If_ I can make him have white hair, he _might_ be receptive to returning from the dead with his mind intact, like us. If he is not receptive to the change there are always more options- it's simply whimsy that makes me want him at my side. I'm aware of that. I'm aware there are others better suited to the task. I'm aware that we don't even need Harbingers in the first place, are not limited to five Harbingers only, and there are those even now I have in reserve for you to reanimate in case I cannot find anyone… _fresher_. That's just the way the world works, brother. There's always choices. There's always second chances."

"I suppose God told you that, too," I say dryly, but he doesn't catch my sarcasm.

"Indeed I did," he says, and his grin grows wider. "The trick is, you can't go talking to Him waiting for a clear answer, because there is none. In your heart you know the answer to everything you could ever think to ask, but because you're scared of the answer you want God to give you a different one." He shakes his head. "That's not the way the world works, brother. That's not the way He works."

"That's not the way you work."

"Exactly. I always knew you were smart. You know, the Bible says that Adam and Eve could have become Gods, if they had just eaten from the tree of life as well as the one of knowledge. And since we've already discovered the secret to death, and since that knowledge of good and evil was passed down, don't you think we're Gods now?"

"I don't know, brother. I don't think about things like that."

"I think we can."

"But don't you already have the answer?" I ask him, circling around to find a flaw in his little dream.

That makes him pause. "Yes," he says at last.

"So then why are you asking me?"

"Because I'm scared to look for it."

"Why?"

"Because it's deep inside me."

"And?"

"And if I look too deep, that puts me in God's territory."

I bite my lower lip, wondering if what he's saying is true about God. Wondering if his mind didn't get a bit further damaged when he dragged his soul out of endless wandering- or perhaps someone unknowingly dragged it back for him. "And you don't feel like talking to Him again."

My brother shrinks in his chair, glaring at the battlefield with his lips twisted in a scowl. "…No, I don't," Nova said under his breath, almost sulkily.

"Ah," I say instead of questioning him further, and focus my eyes on him, every part of him.

Quite suddenly, and with extreme force, I then remember that I used to love him more than anything in the world.

And I stop my mind from it's endless _wants_ and stand next to him with my arms crossed, watching the battle and not even asking if I could go fight as well. I knew he needed me here.

And that was more important than anything I could ever want.

"I'm waiting, Aerrow," Nova whispers, red eyes trained on the glorious explosions, bombs and cruisers exploding mid air. Our last invasion was nothing more than a quick drop in to pick up something we wanted to borrow. Today, we rekindled the flames of war that had laid like silent embers in the fire pit, and now all of Atmosia is burning before our eyes. "I'm waiting for _you_."

I would never dare say it out loud, but I am waiting too. For what, I cannot say.


	23. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Even here it is not safe- even this grave has been defaced. Someone has written on this stone, in some angry hand: 'Hope rides alone, Hope rides alone, Hope rides alone."

**Starling.**

**One Month Ago.**

_Has it occurred to you that these tests aren't giving you straight answers because they were designed for humans?_

I only looked up to see which one of my demons was stalking me today, and after seeing him to be an Interceptor from years before I was born I quickly went back to my chemistry kit. "Yes," I said shortly, not really wanting the company right then as I lifted up a flask to examine its contents. To his credit, the old timer was patient with me, but it wasn't long before he spoke again.

 _Perhaps he's finally cracked all the way,_ he mused. _It happens. It happens more often than you would think._

The winds of Terra Saharr might have been drier than my voice, but it was a close race. "Well, I wonder why," I muttered, leaning forward on my desk with my hands running through my hair, thick purple strands falling from my ponytail to land squarely in front of my eyes, but that didn't blind me to his presence.

Nothing did.

_Merbs are dangerous, and the chaos of mixed blood makes him unstable. This is known. If it's not drugs after all, you would be wise to kill him._

"I've probably already killed him by getting this close to him. But I'll be fine." I washed my hands of the chemicals, watching them go down the drains of my sink. The polished metal of the spigot reflected my pensive eyes, black center so large that the green was nothing but a thin ring around it.

I dried my hands.

"It's not me that ever dies."

**OoOoOo**

**Fifteen Years Ago.**

**Terra Atmosia.**

I held Stork's small hand in mine, standing over his mother's grave. It was drizzling lightly, just enough to coax the heat out from where it was trapped in the ground but not enough to sink it back down again and make us freeze. The humidity was choking. Gavia and Griffin stood on either side of us, saluting the row of five grey round headstones-

Three Interceptors-

-Two Storm Hawks.

Here lies Finch Zerfaas, of Terra Finlandia. ( _Beloved Father and Husband_ ).

Here lies Vernal Fields, of Terra Merb. (Written in ink on the corner, my curly writing barely legible due to the fact that my hand was shaking- _I love you, Vern_.)

Here lies Laridae Aguila, of Terra Rex. ( _One day we will be together again_ ).

Here lies Bluejay Reynolds, of Terra Atmosia. ("He was so young", I thought.)

Here lies Falcon Quintana, of Terra Tropica. ( _O Lord, he is Thine_ )

I snapped the cap back onto the permanent black marker, stepping back from the grave where no one had though to put anything but date of birth and eventual death.

None of the ones who were alive could say a word at the eulogy. We stayed long after the citizens- who didn't even really know the dead but knew their reputation as heroes- had left. So it was just the six of us- Gavia, Griffin, myself, Stork Fields, Aerrow, and Finn Zerfaas, who were both too young to speak anyway. Aerrow's mother held him on her hip with her left hand, free to salute her dead friends with her right. Griffin held Finn, who looked up at his dead father's best friend with his blue eyes wide.

Stork held my hand tightly, staring at Vern's grave with a frightened expression. I leaned over and picked him up, and even though normally he would have pitched a fit if anyone but his mother touched him he was limp in my arms, small green head resting against my shoulder as I turned away and walked back to the _Condor_. The old ship was trashed in the battle, but practically every mechanic and their apprentices had swarmed her when she was towed into the dry docks of Terra Atmosia. She was back to fighting potential in a little less than a week.

I set Stork down in one of the chairs on the bridge, resting my hands on the steering wheel where Vern could always be found, shoulders relaxed as she led us safely through the clouds. I couldn't cry. I didn't think I'd ever cry again, because the wounds would always be there, and the salt from my tears would just make them scream even louder.

"She's not dead."

I turned around abruptly, fixing my eyes on the small merb. He looked up at me, hands in his lap and ears swiveling around like radars to catch every stray sound.

"What do you mean, Stork?" I asked him.

He bit his lip, yellow eyes widening and green eyebrows bunching together. "She's not… she's not, 'cause- 'cause I can see her."

I turned back to the steering wheel, heart hammering.

"Starly?" Stork said.

"Yeah," I said at last, running my hands over the wheel. "I can see her, too."

"But they can't." He hopped from the seat, running past me to press his face against the great front glass window of he bridge, peering down at Gavia and Griffin, who were making their way to the _Condor_. "Mom says we can't tell them yet. Maybe never."

That made me worried. "You can _hear_ her?" I asked him, pulling on his shoulder to force him to look at me, uncertain whether to believe him or not. This might just be that I'm so crazy, I'm making this up myself. Maybe Stork is dead, too. Maybe I'm locked up in a padded cell somewhere talking to spiders, and my siblings look in on me from the window in the door and cry. Maybe this isn't real.

Or maybe everything- everything I know- maybe _everything_ isn't real.

"You can hear her too, Starly." He twitched away from me, warily watching my hands to see if I would try and touch him again. "You just… you don't know how."

I knelt in front of him, careful to keep my distance from the odd little boy. "Can you teach me?" I asked him, gently as I could.

He judged me with luminous, alien yellow eyes, face solemn as he held my possible sanity in his four-fingered hands. "No," he said at last. "But they can." I glance over to Gavia and Griffin, but Stork stops me before I can ask. "Not them," he says quickly, waving a dismissive hand in their general direction. "… _Them_."

"Who are they, Stork? You mean the…" I concentrate hard on not letting my voice shake. "The… dead people?"

He looked at me then, yellow eyes narrowed. "They're not dead," he said with his squeaky voice unusually sharp. "They're not. I can see them. Other people can't that's all. They're… they're somewhere _else_."

"How can they teach me if I can't hear them?" I asked him, too distraught to handle a kid who already had some serious problems and who could now see ghosts. Hell, I was too distraught to handle a normal kid. They tried saddling me with Finn at first, but it was obvious I didn't know what I was doing, so Gavia took him.

As if she didn't already have enough on her plate, taking care of Aerrow all alone.

"Other people will teach you," Stork said. "People like me. With ears."

"Merbs?"

"Some merbs," he answered, frustratingly evasive without meaning to be so. "But they'd hurt you. I mean humans. And they're all like…" his mouth twisted indecisively. "…red." His eyes lit up for a moment in sudden epiphany. "I'll draw you to esplain," he said, running off to his room and coming back with a red crayon and lined paper. Throwing himself on the floor, he stuck his tongue out in concentration as his shaky child's hands drew a circle.

And inside it- the unmistakable roosting raven of the Cyclonians.

"Yeah," he murmured under his breath when he was done, kneeling on the floor and looking down on his masterpiece with an unreadable expression. "They're _very_ red."

**OoOoOo**

**Cyclonis/Lark (thirteen years old)**

**Four Years Ago.**

**Terra Cyclonia.**

I frowned, glaring at the chess board and my patience wearing thin with every second that ticked by. I knew that if I moved now I'd make some careless mistake and he would overcome me, but the more my eyes roamed over the board the more it seemed hopeless and the more enraged I became. So I panicked; his piece ate mine, adding it to his sizable collection.

"You're not very good at this," Nova noticed, sprawled out on the floor of the throne room. "Checkmate, Sister."

My newly painted black eyebrow twitched. "Don't call me that," I told him.

"Ooohh, excuse me." He waved his transparent hands at me, voice sarcastic- only they weren't really transparent. I looked at them, these ephemeron that seemed to shift into solidity only to blink out again like dying light bulbs.

"Why are you the only ghost that doesn't listen to me?" I demanded of him, managing to tear my eyes away from his hands for once. I found him to be much more interesting as a dead person than a living one- more rational. So I suppose, I must have been the irrational one now, the one who had to deal with the clamoring of our ancestors while trying to keep myself separate from them, trying to remember who Lark is and not always be Cyclonis, but God, it was just so hard some days.

"Because you're weak," Nova said, scattering the chess pieces to the floor. He liked to do that after a game, just to prove that he still held some sort of sway in this world. "When you learn how to speak as well as listen and see, then maybe you can truly be called my master."

"Great." I rapped my fingers against the cold stone floor, drinking in his words like a woman dying of thirst. "So this is how it goes, then. I just have to work through all the senses. First, there is- _feeling,_ so to speak, or at least recognize their presence- then, there is sight- hearing- and now speech? Don't tell me after that I have to learn how to smell ghosts, too."

"Not sure that's possible."

"Teach me how to speak."

"No."

"Then I'll get one of the others to teach me. Father, maybe."

"You go do that."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!" I stood up, my cape billowing around me and the hood firmly fixing itself around my face to try and hide how angry I had become with his fool dancing around the subject at hand.

**OoOoOo**

**Three Years Ago.**

Lightning struck me, that night.

It was storming so hard it made me scared. A small part of me felt like keening in terror, hiding under my blankets, pulling the pillow down over my head and cowering until the clouds had passed. Part of me felt like running to Immer's room where I knew he would wake up if he felt me wriggling under his blankets to cuddle up in the nook of his arm, pressed against his thin frame to feel his ribcage. That part of me, the part who wanted to go running to her older brother for protection, was so obviously Lark it startled me in its clarity. Then another part of me- that part that was half-ghost herself- her blood was stirred by the sounds of thunder rippling through the craggy mountains of Cyclonia. She wanted to go out there, lie on the ground and let the raindrops sting her eyes like tears.

And I knew that Lark would not win this fight.

I threw the blankets off of me, pulling on a robe with hands that shook with intensity and yes, maybe something a bit like the kind of excitement you get when you're young and alive, and you meet someone else young and alive, to hold their hand and feel the current run through you both like lightning hitting a wire. Of course I hadn't felt that way then, when I was thirteen. I wouldn't feel it, feel that giddy excitement, until I met Piper.

So I ran outside, and no one stopped me. Maybe it was fate, but the only people there that night were me, the storm, and Nova, because he followed me everywhere, and a more dedicated ghost I never met. He didn't comment on the fact that I could get sick from the rain, because we both knew that the water was seriously the least of my concern when every few seconds the sky fused with the earth with one single pillar of light, sometimes striking only a few scant feet from where I stood. The storm was in full fury now, and no one dared go outside but me, because I _am_ the storm.

All I felt was Nova at the last moment, using that small bit of force he had in this world to touch the back of his hand against my cheek.

And I laughed so hard, the storm was scared of me.

**OoOoOo**

I wish I could say it was a figure of speech, but I was literally struck by lightning that night and I had to be hospitalized for days on end. But hey, kids will be kids, and I will always be an unstable megalomaniacal empress.

Either way, I was inspired like never before, and the distinct, emboldened line between Lark and Cyclonis blurred a little more. Yet despite that, the voices of the dead were eerily silent. For a while I would pace the hallways of Cyclonia, searching for them with delirium in my eyes, but then I got used to the echo inside my lonely brain and decided to use the time I was given wisely.

The only ghost I ever saw with any regularity in that short time was Nova. He grew more solid as the days went by and the connection between us grew, and sometimes I could forget my resentment towards him, forget- that thing he had done to me, just before he had died, forget that one last act of life that pushed me over the edge and yes, pushed Immer over the edge, and made him help me murder our Master.

I asked him about the absence of the other ghosts one day (asked him politely because my voice wasn't strong enough to sway him and force him to obey me), and he told me:

"I've organized them for you."

That made me stop in my tracks. I had been making rounds around the courtyard, admiring the gardener's craftsmanship in my castle when he said that. My eyes- I had chosen them to be blue, because I felt that black hair and blue eyes was just the prettiest combination I had ever seen in my fourteen years of life- my blue eyes sought his red ones and I didn't even need to ask him out loud.

"I mean, I've organized your mind a bit," he explained to me, perhaps not realizing the fresh terror of him that was forming deep in my mind. "You're going over the edge faster than I did because you lack control. So they're organized- you can pull on them when you want, but only then, and I'm not going to teach you how, and sometimes they'll come out all at once when they have something important to say." He paused- not for a breath, because he didn't need air, but perhaps because he was thinking of a way to finish that long run-on sentence. "OK?" he said at last.

He seemed very solid then, standing in the garden. So I, shocked beyond words, merely turned and continued to walk towards my castle.

**OoOoOo**

The next time he shocked me, it was by visiting my dreams.

_I stood on one side of a lumpy, jagged pillar of glass and metal. He stood on the other side, and I peered around it to blink at him like we were children playing a very solemn game of peek-a-boo. I rested my hands on the column, pressing my cheek against it, and I asked him again with my eyes. They were purple now, because the color of the blue pigments I added to them with eye drops were beginning to fade back to red. I found that I rather liked them that shade, though._

" _It's something that's in our mind," he told me, running one hand down the frame of the machine, fingertips brushing over the keyboard. "It's something that we created together, Sister. The idea has been in your mind ever since lightning struck us. And now I'm showing you it. So that we can make it real in your world, too."_

_From a bird's eye view, flying faster than any skimmer or switchblade or slip wing or heli scooter, I saw the landscapes of all of Atmos rush under my eyes. I saw a storm like the one that had made me Cyclonis, a storm that no longer scared me, but my God!_

_How the Atmosians ran in terror._

_I saw the sands of Saharr rise up, cover Tent City until nothing was left but dunes._

_I saw Blizzaria, a frozen tundra wasteland, rain and sleet and snow falling harder and faster than the missiles of a Cyclonian cruiser._

_I saw Atmosia- shining- brilliant- burning- crashing- falling- entombed by rock and rubble and debris._

_I saw Polaris Point crumble, the storms on either side rushing inward._

_I saw lightning storms, dry, without any rain, ripping up the scrublands of Bogaton._

_I saw Amazonia, hurricanes battering and bashing at the wild landscape until the trees were all pulled up by their roots and it was left barren._

_I saw the Timepulse on Glockenchime shimmer and fade as the shining metal parapets crumpled under the pressure of the storms._

_I saw boulders crash and tumble, tectonic plates shifting to rip open the scar that is known as the Black Gorge, releasing its demons out into the unsuspecting innocent world. The cloud had blocked out the sun, leaving us in an endless night that would last for months if not years, and_ they _ruled the night._

_Most memorably, I saw stormy Gale. The constant cloudy cover of that land grew to such a frenzy, the lightning almost rivaled the one that had struck me- no! May I dare say that such a storm could have ended the whole world, much less pathetic little Gale? Nothing was left. Not even the rock foundation of the Terra was left when that storm was done, and where once there was Terra Gale all you could see was the cloud line._

" _The only ones left are…"_

"…Us," I finished in a dreamy mumble upon waking.

**OoOoOo**

**Two Years Ago.**

"It's called…"

A lurid grin lit up my face.

" _ **A Storm Engine**_ ," we said.

**OoOoOo**

**Immer**

**Present Day.**

Lark's eyes snap open with sudden clarity, focusing in on me for a split second before swiveling over to Nova. The striker crystal on my blade loosens itself from where I have it equipped and flings itself at him, erupting into flames.

"Nova!"

I run to him, but I find out soon that I needn't have worried. The crystal stops its trajectory mid-flight, pausing in the air a few scant inches from Nova's turned back. He looks over his shoulder at it, at her, and it drops to the floor. Then he turns to me. "You were supposed to be watching her," he says, lips twisting in a cruel scowl.

I don't say anything, so he lets out a tired breath and just walks over to Lark, kneeling in front of her where she sat, bound and now cowed. "What are you planning, Nova?" she demands of him, still trying to seem in control when the panic is so obviously rising in her red eyes. "Still trying to destroy the world? Don't you ever come up with anything original?"

"I'm rebuilding it," he says, kissing her forehead, sending a stab of jealousy for both of them through me. "From scratch. For you, for me, and for our…"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!"

The doors burst inwards, and Aerrow leaps into the room with his energy daggers blazing, red and blue miasmas competing for space in the air around his scarred face, his green eyes narrowing as three red pairs of red ones turn to regard him.

And Nova's face splits into a mad, mad smile.

**OoOoOo**

**Omniscient**.

"OK Finn- _open_ _fire_!"

The _Condor_ zoomed forward and down, spiraling as Finn shot in seemingly random directions but every missile hit its mark. Piper pulled up, roaring past a swarm of screaming red energy only to feel the ship jerk and shiver as two more enemy shots hit them from behind. Finn whirled around, targeting the engines of two Cyclonian cruisers, but five more came to take their place.

Piper tried to pick up speed but the controls grew even more wonky the faster she flew, the steering wheel rebelling against her hands and beginning to vibrate from the power of the engines, making random left turns every so often. "This isn't looking so good," she said under her breath, feeling her grip loosen on the controls. They were definitely shaking now, the whole _Condor_ shaking as though they were on land and the land was dancing, but she refused to let her heart fail. Her face was stony calm, her pulse was even, and no sheen of panicked sweat made her dark skin shine.

"Help me." Piper lowered her head as if in prayer, bumping her forehead against the rebellious controls, her braids covering her eyes so no one could see how they shone with repressed tears. " _Help me_ ," she whispered fiercely to the _Condor_ , biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. In response, the _Condor_ jerked again and her nose tilted downwards. Finn yelped, knocked from the cannon as the opening in the wall closed up again without him retracting the gun on his own, bucking him off like a rampaging horse. The engines screamed and pipes burst, the hiss of steam louder than the alarms that rang in her ears. Finn was sprawled on the floor, shouting something, but she never heard him.

"Damn it! We're-"

"Crashing, you're crashing, because you're idiots!"

Four-fingered hands, covered in black fingerless gloves, grabbed her from behind- grabbed her- physically, grabbed her- and flung her aside like a rag doll to grip the controls and arch his back, pulling up with a roar to match the sounds of the winds outside. At one point, his mutilated right hand slipped and they fell again, but Stork managed to get it right the second time, remembering that his fingers were shorter now; he pulled them up, barrel-rolling above and out of the cloud line, and made a beeline for the Cyclonians.

He looked over his shoulder at Piper, the upward flaps of his purple trench coat hiding his mouth so that only his gleaming yellow eyes could be seen, narrowing at her. She stood, immobile in shock, and Stork turned fully around so that she could see that the X that had once crossed his chest, the brown Storm Hawks uniform, was gone. Under the trench coat, tan, purple, and black leather were patched together intermittently with steel and bolts, a pauldron covering his right shoulder and spikes on the left, punching clean through the purple fabric of the coat with their deadly piercing points. Steel plating covered the top part of his three-toed feet and his ankles up to his knees, since no boots could ever fit that awkward shape. His stomach was covered in similar plates, kept together with steel bands to allowed him to still twist and turn without being hampered.

Brazen on his chest was the purple insignia of the Interceptors, stamped on a steel circle just above his heart.

Stork snapped her out of her trance soon enough, throwing his arms upwards in despair as he shrieked at her. "Don't you know that the _Condor_ can't fly at those speeds unless you change the shift stick!" he screeched, pulling at his green hair. "What the hell is wrong with women! Can't you DRIVE? Look, the steering wheel is all shot now!"

Finn launched forward in the middle of Stork's tirade, cutting him off as he pointed through the front glass and shouted, " _Look out_!"

Stork whipped around, knocking Finn aside as he wrenched the _Condor_ to the right to dodge the incoming missiles, sending the two humans on board flying against the wall. When he leveled out, Junko burst through the bridge doors, followed closely by Starling.

"Help… is on the way," she said, breathless from running. She walked up to Stork, green eyes focused on the battle outside. Finn had somehow managed to get the cannon working again and was blasting away, Junko hard at work with one spare cannon in either hand, blasting them and not even feeling more of a kick than Finn might have with his crossbow. "The Zeroes and the Buff Buzzards should be here within the hour. Until then, we have to fight them on our own, so come on!" She turned again, grabbing Piper's arm and dragging her to the hangar. "Get on your heliscooter and fight like a Sky Knight!"

"I'll handle the _Condor_ ," Stork reassured them, already banging on the steering wheel with a wrench to get it back into working order. "I'm the only one who can- obviously." His lip twitched in a sick little smile.

"Please be careful," Starling said, running back outside with Piper in tow. Once the controls were fixed Stork dove headfirst into the line of fire, twisting around so that he flew upside down over the head of one of the cruisers.

"Turkey Burp!" he shouted over his shoulder. Finn lobbed two of them before resuming fire, and the explosions rocked the ship. "Hehehehehe," he chuckled, crouching possessively over the controls.

**OoOoOo**

The roar of the engines and the explosions filled her ears as Piper, energy staff in hand, flew out to meet the Talons with Starling at her side. Before long three blue mountains rushed past her, screaming at the top of their lungs, and Rave was there flying at her side, grinning as she snapped on a pair of blue-tinted goggles to protect her eyes from the force of the wind. "That danger crystal Lark made- it works both ways, you know?" she yelled to Piper over the sound of the battle, holding up a crystal that glowed bright red. "Figured you guys needed help."

"And soo we're here tae help," Gogo added, brandishing his chakrams with a grin.

If they weren't flying, Piper would have hugged them. But since they were, she simply choked out: "Thanks, guys."

"Where's Aerrow? We need all he help we can get," Starling said.

Gogo shook his head. "Ah lost track o' him early oon. Atmoos knoos where he maeght be nao."

Starling growled under her breath. "That's bad. We need to keep him away from Nova!"

Piper looked at her. "Don't tell me you know all about this Harbinger crap too now?"

Starling nodded, face grim.

"Aerrow…" Piper swallowed. "Aerrow said he didn't care. He went out after Nova before I could stop him."

Starling stared at her in horror as he _Alley_ and the _Condor_ roared over their heads, cannons blasting as they entered the battlefield. Three squadrons came at them at once. Starling arched her Slip Wing upwards, spinning like a corkscrew to present a more difficult target to fire at. Rave wove her way through the line of fire, so small and fast on her hoverboard she could hop onto the wings of the enemy Switchblades and extended the pole of her slingshot so that it turned into a spear. With her insider knowledge of Cyclonian rides, she levered off chunks of armor plating and smashed the engine directly. When she leaped off to freedom, her newly upgraded hoverboard went directly to her feet where her mag boots latched on, no longer needing the bulky and time-consuming remote control she used to carry at her waist.

Gogo smashed through the enemy ranks with an extendable ram he had equipped to his customized Hummer, slashing left and right with a chakram in one hand and steering with the other. One of the Talons made the mistake of leaping from his trashed Switchblade to land on Gogo's wings, spear in hand. He thrust forward with it, catching Gogo in the face. Gogo went with the blow, but then turned his slashed face up to the Talon with no expression or any sign that he was hurt at all. With one roar, his chakram flew from his hand and ripped the Talon in two; on its return trip it sliced the head off of what was left of the torso and landed safely back in Gogo's open hand. Laughing once, the Wallop flew off in another direction to charge again, droplets of blood falling from his Hummer as he did so.

Piper free fell when she saw two of the Talons on her tail, cutting the motor and dropping like a rock so suddenly the Switchblades flew over her. As they were turning around to correct their mistake she shot them from below, two blasts of energy from the red striker crystal Finn had given her almost two months ago, just before Aerrow's birthday. Higher up she could see the purple after burn of Starling's engines, giving chase to another red one. Purple flew; red fell.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gogo's ears fell flat against his skull and he winced at the noise. Rave floated up next to him, rummaging through his side compartment for a pair of peepers to see the newcomers to the fight, though really she shouldn't have been surprised to see the Absolute Zeroes.

"GIVE 'ERRRRRRRRRRRR!"

With mad cackles, seven furry explosions rocketed out of nowhere, not flying in any sort of formation that Starling had ever seen. They were like flying insects, such as bees, swirling and loop-dee-looping their way around the fight.

And that was when the unearthly howls rent the air. The hair on the back of Starling's neck rose as she stopped midair and turned her Slip Wing to see six slim black shapes shoot out of a new cruiser to join the fray. Four of them were Nords, wolfish humanoids with fur that ranged from gold blond to grey blue, and two were humans with whole actual wolf skins attached to their armor, using the heads as hoods and fierce blue eyes burning from the eye sockets.

"We brought friends, eh," said a voice from Starling's radio, Billy Rex of the Absolute Zeroes.

"The Nords agreed to fight?" Starling asked him, shocked.

"Yep. These boys is all right if you get 'em to chill for a second; you know, pull the old broomstick up outter their arseho-OH-OHLOOKOUTTHERE, LU!" there was an explosion from the background of the radio.

She could hear Suzi-Lu screaming: "Think you own the skies, groundpounder? Eh, windsucker? Think youse guys is so tough? GIVE 'ER!"

Billy hung up on Starling.

The Wind Wolves of Terra Nord were the total opposite of the Zeroes, flying in a strict V-formation and breaking apart in a perfect textbook example of a pincer movement, spears leveled out and cold, black energy shooting from the tips. The two forces crashed; one of the Wolves fell from their ride, the grey-blue one, but Mudkip from the Giants dove after her and snatched her out of the air when her parachute malfunctioned.

Energy shots crackled by Starling as two new Skimmers and a hover board-flier arrived in a triangle formation, the hover boarding girl at the apex. She whirled upside down as she passed Rave, to high five Rave's up-stretched hand. Rave shouted: "'Bout time you got your lazy ass over here, Grei!"

"Ain't a party without the Freaks to stir things up," was her quick reply before the grey-skinned girl shot off to join the rest of her squadron, green energy crackling all over her skin almost as though she had crystals equipped to her very body.

Now the battle was more even, but the Atmosians were still badly outnumbered. Parachutes filled the air faster than mushrooms sprouted after the rain, and every loss was dear to the defenders of Atmosia. The Cyclonians had the advantage of greater numbers and their losses didn't even seem the make a dent in the oncoming swarm. No matter how hard they fought, squadrons just kept coming and even managed to land on the Terra, setting fire to the houses and planting bombs at the base of buildings. This time, they were hellbent on the destruction of the Terra and everything in it. Up above in the carrier ships, things weren't doing any better for the _Condor_ , the _Eldritch_ _Alley_ , the Buzzard's _Craggy_ , the Zero's _Ice_ _Bridge_ and the Nord's _Fenrir's Pride_ had most of their sharpshooters out on the field on their sky rides, so the cannons were left unmanned.

Mudkip dropped her passenger off on the _Alley_ , asking her: "Do you know how to shoot a cannon?"

"I should hope I do," said the Nord, sounding insulted that the wallop would even question her.

"Then start blasting, and stop gabbing!" she shouted, returning to the battle.

The wolf bristled. "Why you-!" she said, but ran to the cannons anyway, plopping herself into the seat and aiming through the sights at the enemy cruisers. Rave flew through the opening in the hangar nearby, crashing and rolling onto the ground before springing up to her feet, hover board in hand.

"Wiglaf, I'm running low on-" she started, but then stopped when she saw who was sitting at the gun. "Wait- who the hell are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing, young lady," the wolf said to her, eyeing her up and down. "But judging from the fact that you're _not_ rotting off your ride and your goggles _aren't_ red, you are _not_ a Cyclonian, and if you're _not_ a Cyclonian then you needn't worry about me. For now," she added under her breath.

Rave growled a bit, but after noticing the Wind Wolf insignia on the wolfish girl's back the bangledon figured she wasn't likely to blow up the _Alley_ anytime soon. So she ran to the bridge, where Wiglaf (their mechanic and Gogo's first mate) was piloting the ship in lieu of Gogo. "Wiggy, I've got like zero ammo left for my slingshot and it'll snap in half if I keep using it as a staff! Where're the refills?" she paused. "And why is a Nord manning our guns?"

"I could care less who's shooting as long as they're not shooting at us!" Wiglaf shouted back, not tearing his eyes from the sky in front of him. He had figured it was Rave at the guns, since she was their sharpshooter. "The sling stones are-"

They both shouted in surprise as they received a direct hit from one of the red cruisers. Running to one of the windows, Rave cursed to see that a gaping hole had been ripped in the side of the Alley. "Crapula!"

"I got this," Wiglaf said, setting the _Alley_ on autopilot snatching a furnace crystal out of the pouch in his belt and jogging downstairs, his substantial belly fat jogging with him. Tossing the furnace crystal into his mouth, he crunched it between his teeth and swallowed it in chunks, reaching for the tear in the wall and pulling them shut. Pursing his lips so that they formed a tight little O, he belched pure fire out of his mouth and welded it together with his bare hands.

"All done," he said, thick black smoke still venting from his nostrils as he ran back to the wheel. "Man the cannons, Rave. I'm getting clobbered here!" Rave was on the verge of saying no but obeyed him in the end, plopping herself down on a cannon next to the Nord and aiming down the sights.

**OoOoOo**

"We've got to go after Aerrow," Piper shouted to Starling, pulling up beside the Interceptor. "Which ship would Nova be on- the flagship?"

"Right now that's our best bet," Starling said, looking behind them at the fray. The Rex Guardians had arrived now, but she still felt that they needed help. Squashing the feeling down, she and Piper tore off in the direction of the cruisers. Spotting them, another squadron of Talons broke off from the main assault and chased them like dogs after a pair of foxes. The pair ducked and weaved around engines and exhaust pipes, periscopes and blasting cannons. Soon they realized they weren't alone- that another squadron of Atmosians had followed them to help out. Launching out of the latest cruiser to join the battle, they flew around Piper and Starling and as Piper flew past their cruiser she could make out the name painted on the side in faded letters: _Merlin_.

One of them was riding a Gremlin, a type of sky ride designed so that you could switch the controls around so that you could pilot and steer with only your lower body. Her knees clenched the sides of her ride and with a gruesome machete in each hand, bat-like ears flapping in the wind, she pulled up next to Piper and said, "So, seen any good movies lately?"

Before Piper could reply a male, raspy voice said- "Look out!"

The group scrambled in every direction as a wave of machinegun fire from the Talon squadron burst through the smoke from the cruiser missiles. "Let's party," said a grim, black-haired boy, diving with his scimitar in hand.

"Follow Shade!" said one of the squaddies, the one who had told them to look out. Starling was disquieted to see that he was a raptor, but the others- including Piper- followed his advice and stormed after the one who must have been their Sky Knight. They broke the Talon's formation, squeezing between the Switchblades with axes, blades, staffs, and dirty tricks. One of the squaddies- the girl riding the Gremlin- got her engines knocked out. The nose of her ride tilted down and she began to crash. Instead of leaping off and ejecting her parachute, though, the girl sheathed her machetes and grabbed the controls to her sky ride, not even trying to pull up but tilting it further downwards, steering around cruisers and other moving objects until she reached the other battlefield down below, the individual rides.

"Wasp, no!" one of the squaddies shouted, the only other girl that Piper could see.

She screamed, jumping off last second just before she used her ride as a weapon itself, crashing it into the Switchblade of another Talon. "Yeah, yeah, _yeaaaah mothafuckaaas_!"

 _Then_ she ejected her parachute, where the symbol of her squadron had been very obviously painted over with multiple colors of spray paint all saying the same thing in different ways- Wasp, WaSp, Psaw, WASP, w.a.s.p…etc.

"She'll be all right," Starling reassured the other girl squaddie, a blonde. "But you can go after her."

"You all should go," Piper said. "We're headed for the flagship, to try and help a friend, but they really need some more backup in the other fight. Thanks for your help just now, though."

"Works for me," said another boy, already rocketing off towards the battlefield below as the blonde girl went to go retrieve her friend. After a moment of hesitation, the Sky Knight saluted Piper and Starling and went as well, riding neck and neck with the raptor. Starling and Piper turned their rides around and headed for the flagship. They reached it easily enough, but getting onboard was a different story. It wasn't like they could knock on the hangar door and ask- "Can Nova come out to play?"

They circled around the entire ship, keeping their engines at a low hum to avoid detection. Proximity alerts would be ignored here, where obviously enemies abounded, so at least they didn't have to worry about that. Finally they found an air duct that was ripped open, and the mutual looks of concern they gave each other spoke loud enough- Aerrow had indeed come here, and he was already on board. "What do we do with our rides?" Piper whispered to the Interceptor, looking inside the crawlspace. "I don't see Aerrow's skimmer anywhere."

"That, my friend, is the least of your concerns."

Piper didn't even have time to turn around before the blast of purple energy sliced off the rotating blades of her scooter. With a cry, she lunged at the opening, hanging by one arm for a few terrifying seconds before Starling hovered beneath her, shoved her inside with a "Go, don't worry about me- save Aerrow!". Piper nodded and crawled further inside, not even flinching when Starling blasted the opening with her nun chucks, welding it shut.

Starling faced her attacker.

"I guess it was only a matter of time," Kitten said to her, single blue eye blazing with madness as she brought her Slip Wing to a hover, steering it with one hand while the other brandished a purple energy whip. "Hello, Starling."

Starling said nothing, green eyes guarded.

"Don't you remember me?" Kitten prompted her, tilting her head to the side. She spread both her arms wide now, a beguiling smile on her face.

" _Don't you remember your Rissa_?"

**OoOoOo**

Piper had the luck enough to drop down from the air duct into the hallway just as one of the hall doors opened and a Talon marched out, spear in hand. They froze when they saw each other, but then Piper let loose a blast of red energy from her staff. The Cyclonian brought up a shield with the crystal attached to his own staff, deflecting it and sending a wave of his own attacks back at her. She rolled to the side, coming up with another few blasts and he jumped up and over her, jabbing downwards when he was directly above her. She wildly smacked it aside, the impact of metal hitting metal jarring her hands and sending a sting all the way up her shoulders.

The Talon commander stood back, shoulders straight and spear at the ready as he pulled his goggles off to fix her with piercing blue eyes. Piper could tell he was one of the few Talons that weren't already dead, since he was all intact and no stench of rot came off of it. "Well, well," he said. "You're not half bad, little girl…"

**OoOoOo**

Stork veered to the left, grunting with exertion and the old wounds on his mangled right hand starting to ache from the stress he was putting them through. "The _Condor's_ not gonna last through much more of this," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "Well, eh…" his eyelid twitched as he looked up to the ceiling to reconsider his words. "More than likely the _Condor'll_ make it, but I mean _we_ won't," he corrected himself, looking over at Finn. "We're seriously outnumbered here!"

"Well, I'm not running away this time!" Junko said, not looking away from his sights even though he was running low on ammo and he couldn't feel his hands from kick after kick after kick as he shot down every Switchblade that came in range.

Storked moaned softly. "Oh man, I was afraid you'd say something like that." Shaking his shaggy green head, Stork said, "Listen- we need to target the old Dark Ace or Nova himself. One of those two is controlling all these goons outside!" he gestured to the enemy line.

"Well in case you haven't noticed, Stork," Finn said, glaring over his shoulder at the Merb, "Nova is all the way over there on the flagship having a good time, and we're kind of _getting our asses kicked_ all the way over here!"

Stork stood at the helm, yellow eyes flicking over the controls as his mind rushed through every possible outcome. Of course there was the probability that the whole battlefield would erupt into flames if one of the crystal converters in somebody's cruiser malfunctioned, but Stork couldn't sit around and hope for that to happen. He needed to get on that flagship, because he knew there was more than just Nova waiting for him on board. His eyes flicked upwards from the controls to the flagship on the other side of the battlefield, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"Listen, you two!" he shouted, not tearing his eyes from the flagship. "I've got an idea, but it's kind of..." He lowered his head against the controls, shoulders shaking so softly no one noticed. "… _crazy_."

"How crazy?" Junko asked, wary.

Stork told them.

Finn and Junko finally stopped their barrage to stare first at Stork and then each other. "But…"

"I can predict the trajectory of the two vehicles…" his ears swiveled around as he calculated rapidly in his mind. "We'd land mostly intact in the main square of Terra Atmosia," Stork said. "Then we could go onboard and search for Aerrow and Nova. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"But-?"

" _Isn't it_?" Stork demanded of them, facing them with his arms akimbo. "Well? Do you have a better idea than just floating around here hoping for reinforcements?"

Finn and Junko looked at each other once more. "If you're OK with it," Finn said at last.

"I'm OK with it. I'm the one who suggested it in the first place."

"Then let's do it!" Junko said.

"All right," Stork turned to face the controls. "Strap yourselves in-" He shrugged off his purple trench coat. "-Seal all the hatches-" He gripped the controls tightly, and in between mad cackles he managed to scream out: "- _and try not to die_!"

**OoOoOo**

Nova pulled his sword free from where it was strapped to his back, a huge hand-and-half bastard sword erupting into golden yellow flames. "Stay out of this, Immer," he said to the former Dark Ace, not even looking at him in favor of the new one who stood with his energy daggers bared and dangerous. "I want to teach him a lesson personally."

"I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you're going to pay for what you're doing now, Nova!" Aerrow said, the scar on his face twisting and writhing with his words like an angry snake.

Lark remained quiet on her spot on the floor as they lunged at each other, twisting her arms to try and unfasten the knots that bound her. Now that Nova's attention was elsewhere, she was free to do as she pleased without attracting attention. She waited until she was just barely at the point of breaking free and then stopped, knowing that now wasn't the moment to strike.

Now was not the moment to strike.

Her breath caught in her throat as Nova brought his sword down on top of Aerrow's head and he lifted up both of his daggers at the same time, falling on one knee under the force of the blow as they entered a _corps-a-corps_ , arms shaking from exertion and the crackling plasma of their blades glowing in an aura around them- gold, purple, red, and blue swirling in chaos.

Stork lost his breath as his pulse jumped to dangerously high levels.

Junko and Finn held their breath and the edge of their seats, trusting Stork.

Piper got the wind knocked out of her as the Talon commander caught her square in the gut with the butt of his spear, sending her sprawling backwards.

And those who could not breathe simply watched.

With endless black eyes.


	24. Hope Rides Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Hold me and tell me we'll burn like stars! We'll burn as we fall!"

**Stork.**

_I don't expect you to help me._

Taking the controls in hand, these extensions of my own body that had been cut off from me for so long, I lurch forward with a scream of the engines. Twisting and twirling around incoming missiles, I break through the enemy line. They're surprised to see me run this way- I can see it like the expression on a man's face. Everything about the pilot shines through in the way he steers the ship, and the lag in their turning around to shoot after me says they certainly weren't expecting that. I only pick up speed, wrenching the lever back so hard the gears complain to me. Sorry, I want to say, but I can't bring myself to speak to the _Condor_ like I used to. I talked to her- talked to her ghosts. The dead people that walked the hallways that only I could see. Day in and day out, my lips would never move but an endless stream of questions and complaints flew from my mind to the…from my mind to…

_Does a ship have a mind of its own?_

_Yes? I don't know. I used to know._

_Or for all these years have we been praying this is so?_

_The sinking feeling in my gut- says no._

_What's the alternative- madness on my part?_

_Wishful thinking? When did it start-_

_With the prayer of the man who welded the first plate,_

_turned the first screw,_

_hoping that blue-_

_grey steel he_

_staked his wages on_

_would perform the way the_

_dream on the blue paper_

_states?_

(Oh God. Oh God. Oh, God.)

_Who gave the bird her voice, to sing,_

_her motor's vibrations ringing to the same tunes_

_as the unsound unkempt frayed strings_

_of my mind?_

(O God if you're there- help me)

(epiphany)

_We did._

_We formed these ties that bind._

(Oh, God. I know it. It's true.)

(I won't ask you for your help)

(All along it was…)

"I won't ask you for your help," I snarl in defiance, launching forward before my terrified keening betrays the way that I am not really in control of this livid green body. Out of the corner of my eye I see my dead mother who left me, who abandoned me to save my life, my mother blank and endless. So it's to her I speak, not the _Condor_. "'Cause… 'cause…"

(-nothings-)

_Her face into mine-_

(-my lips never move but an endless stream-)

_They are-_

(-nothing).

A helpless laugh escapes my lips; I shiver. It had been building up in me these years, more so in the last two years than at any other time in my life. It was the fear that kept me awake at night. It was the horror lodged in the back of my mind. It was the betrayal of my senses, the final admittance to everything I always knew but never dared speak.

'Cause you're not even _real_ , are you?

 _Not like everyone else is real. Not even like the other ghosts are real. You're nothing. You're a memory she left behind after she passed on and I clung to you because you were supposed to_ be _there but you never were- just like Piper's father. You're something my madness produced from deep inside me. I created you in my own image._

_You're not real._

She dissipates.

And I crash the _Condor_ into the flank of the enemy flagship.

**OoOoOo**

**One Month Ago.**

Starling sat down next to me, hands folded on her lap as she watched me refuse to acknowledge her presence in the room. "Ok, well, you're going to have to let me go to the bathroom sometime," I decided to say at last. "I'm not going to lie here in my own waste. I'd rather bite my tongue in half and bleed to death."

She didn't say anything.

That made me mad. "What?" I said, still not looking at her. "You can't keep me prisoner in your basement forever. The very idea is ludicrous. This whole situation is ludicrous. So just…" My lip twisted upwards in a snarl, ears twitching. "Drop. _Dead_. Or something."

"Do you want to know how your father died?"

I almost did bite my tongue, just then. Against my will my eyes snapped to the side to look her over, gauge her for truthfulness, gauge her for threat, gauge myself for whether I was willing to risk being trapped by her lies. Whether or not she was really responsible for my father's murder, she still needed to be punished. _No one_ treated me this way and got away with it. I don't think of myself very highly, of course. I think I'm like the green scum on the bottom of a cloud krill fishership. But one thing I know I'm good at is flying, and the other is revenge, and right now there were no ships to fly.

"Go ahead," I said to her, maybe my voice was thick because I was sad because right then I could remember the way dad smelled like Merlop; or so filled with rage the poison this human woman wrecked into my life seeped through like gelatin, or maybe my teeth were just grit really really tight. "Let's see what you have to say for yourself."

**OoOoOo**

**Lark**

**Two Years Ago.**

It had taken me forever, but I had finally achieved it. I knew there was nothing else it could be but the Voice Nova had mentioned me being able to use- I knew it. I sat at my crystal station, thoughts and ponderings thick in my head, and a rage grew inside me so strong and so unprovoked I felt as though someone had lit a match deep within the bowels of myself, and my insides had caught fire. The fire traveled up my body, tortured my nerve endings, set my brain aflame, until there was no other outlet but my mouth when I said:

"Atmos will be _**mine**_."

The intensity shocked me. It scared me. The thought was not mine- not mine entirely, anyway. Certainly I had not been thinking of my eventual conquest over the free world when the words spilled out of my mouth. In the reflection of myself as provided by the crystals I was working with, I could see my shadowed eyes wide with fear and lips trembling. "Wh-what?" I said, stepping backwards with my hands clasped around my own throat. "What's _**happening to me**_? _**NOVA**_!"

"Yes?"

Nova was a faithful ghost, I'll give him that. More faithful than he had been as my husband, my short-lived husband since I had killed him mere weeks after we were officially married. He had been in the room with me the whole time, or he had come when I had called him, but either way he was there while I sank to my knees, choking on the miasma that floated around me

" ** _My voice- my voice_** is- I cant control it," I said, the ghostly undertones rising and fading like the pitch of a boy's voice as he went through puberty.

"Well, congratulations," Nova said to me, kneeling so that my hunched frame was closer to his incorporeal one. "You've officially tipped over the edge, Sister. It can go either way now- you're overwhelmed, or you overcome."

Maybe if I hadn't been so scared I would have been angry with him. "What? Just tell me _**what this is!"**_

"It's simple." He put a hand on top of my head, a tender caress. "You're losing control of the ghosts. And now they're controlling you."

**OoOoOo**

**Present Day.**

**Omniscient?**

Starling was knocked from her ride. She caught onto a ledge of the ship- barely- and hauled herself up. From behind her she heard the buzz of Rissa's engine and could do nothing but prepare herself from the inevitable pain. And it did come. The whip snapped around her ankle as she tried to clamber up to the top of the ship, and purple electric currents ran through her. She screamed, losing her grip and falling through the sky with Rissa laughing above her, a rapidly fading purple blot.

_We're falling, Starly._

Her hands reached upwards, thrust upwards by the wind pressure as though she were still trying to grab at something, at anything to keep from falling.

_You can't be here- Griffin. You're… dead._

_Am I? It's hard to tell, sometimes, if I'm feeling something- or… or the memory of feeling… I think… I think Gavia brought me back, somehow. And Aerrow, too- something in him- a chemical reaction, maybe- and the mark of Cyclonia vanished from him._

_He looks like you, now. He thinks you're his_ father _._

… _Don't tell Aerrow…_

_Please, please don't tell Aerrow…_

**OoOoOo**

Sparks flew as Aerrow wildly knocked aside the gold blur that flew in for his left flank; leaning impossibly far back as it swiped for his head and watching it slice the air fractions above his nose; breath shallow as he sucked in his gut to avoid having his entrails scattered across the floor; closed his eyes and screamed when he leapt into the air and let loose a blast from the Lightning Claw only to land and see nothing but smoke rising from the area of impact. High above him he heard the crackling of energy and the acrid smell of unstable plasma building, and when he turned his head upward he saw Nova suspended in midair, frame quivering as he somersaulted, the blast of his shot exploding from his blurred figure.

_The Lightning Claw._

_Well, God damn._

Aerrow only had enough time to shout before the force buffeted him to the floor, cracking his skull against the steel of the carrier ship. And falling from the ceiling like a strike of lightning himself was Nova, sword point first. Aerrow rolled to the side, scrabbling for his twin energy daggers as he did so. Nova's bastard sword bit five inches deep, sinking through the floor of the ship where the Sky Knight had just lain. Bracing himself, Nova pulled it free with a grunt- just as easily as if it were a hot knife in butter, lifting it up in time to parry another blow from Aerrow, who had seized the opportunity of his enemy being momentarily defenseless. With his right hand Aerrow sliced downwards, twisting his torso to narrowly avoid being impaled by Nova and slashing horizontally with his left. Nova leapt into the air again, back flipping. Squeezing the trigger of his bastard sword and making a swiping movement to send a blast of gold energy at Aerrow mid-flip, he landed in a three point stance before charging again, sending three more blasts to fly in front of his assault.

Crash- crash- crash- Without breaking a sweat, Aerrow knocked them aside as they flew through the air towards him, leaping over Nova's headlong assault and sending a blast of his own as he jumped. It struck home, the dead center of Nova's back, making him stumble forward with the force of the blow before he regained his balance and whirled around with both hands gripping the handle of his bastard sword, rivulets of sweat trailing achingly slow down his face. But when he leveled the blade at Aerrow, smoke still rising behind him from the direct hit to his back, his chest didn't rise and fall with heaving gasps. He was still as a statue, save for the sweat and the trickle of blood on a shallow cut on his cheek.

Aerrow glanced at their silent spectators, Immer and Lark, fearful that either of them could join the fray at any moment. Lark, of course, was bound against her will, and even though Aerrow knew (more or less) about the recent shift in loyalties where Immer and Lark were concerned, he couldn't bring himself to think that instead of joining in to help Nova, she would somehow decide to be Aerrow's cavalry. The thought of Cyclonis and him fighting side by side was almost as bad to him as working alone. And, again, if the previous Dark Ace and Master Cyclonis wanted to help Nova, he knew what slim chance he had at success would be wiped away. But neither of them moved, dark statues that watched the battle with haunted red eyes.

Aerrow felt a firm resolution rebuild inside him as he snapped the handles of his two daggers together, forming a double-bladed staff. Immer was bound by Nova's orders not to interfere. Lark was literally bound, though Aerrow didn't know how she couldn't break free when he'd seen her, literally, slip through handcuffs and escape from Piper's crystal cages. Was she scared to fight? He didn't know, but he knew that she could have jumped in at any moment. They both could have. But they didn't. And they wouldn't. Nova came at him again, not shouting threats of death or hurling insults but as silent as the ghost he was, returned from the dead to haunt him.

His speed was incredible. The reputation and skill he had earned as the Dark Ace was only enhanced by his supernatural return, and the golden Velocity/Striker stone he had equipped to the hilt of his blade, a pulsing yellow pommel stone. He kept Aerrow dancing, until at one point the red-haired Sky Knight caught a downward swing from Nova's sword and once more, the two were still, locked together by their weapons and the emotions burning in their eyes. Nova used his greater weight against the slender Sky Knight, and to his horror Aerrow felt his knees begin to buckle. The options ran through his mind in that split second- he could break away and hope Nova would lose his balance, keep on pressing forward like he was now only there would be nothing to press against. He could snap out with one foot, hook it around Nova's ankle- no, he didn't have enough room, he didn't have enough leverage. Go in under Nova's guard? Was he was quick enough to do that? Before anything else came to mind, Nova shoved forward sharply, knocking Aerrow backwards and spinning around with one leg raised for a smashing roundhouse kick. The staff flew from Aerrow's hands as he fell, and Nova wasted no time, lifting up his sword for a killing blow. Panicking, Aerrow wrapped his legs around the calf of Nova's left leg, yanking the man down with him.

The tension in the room was palpable. The silence was deafening. The noise- was muted grunts and gasping breaths as the two enemies grappled for he only weapon on hand- Nova's sword.

Neither of them saw it coming. It was Immer, stationed at the helm, who heard the proximity alert of an intruder on board. When he looked at the cameras he cursed to see Piper and Starling hovering just outside and entrance- maybe the same one Aerrow had used but had miraculously remained undetected.

Or knowing this family, not-so-miraculously.

"Kitten," he said into the intercom, linking to the private channel only the Harbingers used, calmly, as if the entire battle for Terra Atmosia and the Harbinger's future wasn't taking place just then. "We have visitors, clinging to our flank just behind the main cannons. Eliminate them."

"Yes, love," was Kitten's response, breaking away from the main battle where she was flying against the Rex Guardians, solo. "I'll take care of it."

"And what about me?" A girlish chirp emitted from the speaker to Immer's ears. Olive, from her rooms on board the flagship. "Just kidding," she said before Immer could respond. "I know I'm less than useless as things are right now."

"That's right," Immer agreed. "Just stay put until you're free to move. Then go landside and head for the targets we discussed earlier." Various heads of state, Sky Council members (assuming they were still alive after the initial bombing), and of course any Sky Knights or Storm Hawks she could sink her claws into (only now that was redundant since it seemed more than a few had come to them). Olive was something like a double-edged sword to the Harbingers, since her return to life had brought her some of the most conflicting powers and weaknesses of the group, most likely due to the extreme nature of her life and inevitable death, and the fact that she had already died once before.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Make sure you-" That moment when he looked up, Immer froze. His words died in his mouth as he saw that familiar, hated shape- the round and clunky and hideously designed _Condor_ on a headlong collision path for the flagship. Immer screamed in rage, knowing the _Condor's_ path and goal, knowing that it was too late to change course but attempting to do so anyway as he crashed into the pilot's seat, pulling it out of hovering mode and wrenching the controls to try and get out of the way. The _Condor_ ducked as he opened fire with all cannons and order all ships to target the Storm Hawks. More than a few missiles hit their mark but it kept on coming until with a screech of metal, the _Condor's_ nose exploded through the side of the flagship, tearing through the metal sheets.

Aerrow and Nova were thrust apart with a cry. For a moment, Aerrow could have sworn he saw the lithe, green shape of Stork at the wheel, just behind the great front glass windows- but then it kept on crashing through until only half of it's rear end was jutting outside. Alarms screamed in their ears and the four were sent tumbling as the flagship and the _Condor_ began to sink through the sky, gaining momentum as it headed for the ground. Aerrow stared in horror at the sight of the tan earth growing closer but was yanked free when Nova pulled him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt, sword in hand. He lifted it high above his head, red eyes wide with mad rage. He would fulfill this act- he would kill his son to bring him back as a loyal servant, and finally would begin the path to total reconstruction of the entire Atmos- an entire Atmos for him, until infinity- until eternity- until-

Until-

 _Until_ -

Until Lark broke free of her bonds and leapt onto his back, a raw crystal in her free hand. A raw, sharp crystal in her free hand as with her other one she pulled back his mane of white hair to expose his neck. She drew her improvised blade across it as Aerrow fell to the floor, released from his father's grip to roll and reach for his blade, coming back up to thrust the tip through Nova's midsection.

His death throes wrenched Lark off of him to fall onto her back, her grip on the crystal- the crystal that Aerrow could see was the striker that powered Immer's blade- lost. It bounced and clattered across the floor, teetering on the edge of free space where the _Condor_ had ripped the metal plating clear off the ship, and then fell towards the Wasteland.

Nova fell on top of Aerrow, the winds screaming at gale force levels all around them, stone cold dead.

Aerrow, drenched in blood, kicked the dead man off of him and got to his feet, his shaking hands pulling his weapon free from the man's body to level it at Lark as she also rose on unsteady footing, the flagship shaking all around them. She was expressionless and guarded, hands out at her side and clenching as though wishing they still held a weapon. Immer stood behind her, watching the two of them face off.

"Go on," she urged under her breath, red eyes burning with the intensity of a wildfire. "You have every right to."

Aerrow's chest rose and fell, green eyes switching from Immer to Lark and back again. His staff was still held, ready for action, pointed at her chest. All it would take was a single energy shot. She was weak right now- two years of inactivity, of isolation, of wasting away in the loneliness of self-exile.

The ground grew closer.

The rip in Nova's throat grew no smaller.

"We should get out of here before we crash," Aerrow said.

Lark nodded. Immer didn't respond, the muted flame of his dead eyes seeing nothing and everything as he gazed at his brother, prone on the floor. The Sky Knight passed him slowly towards the exit, not turning his back at any point, keeping the former Dark Ace in sight until Lark tugged at his elbow, leading him into the shaking hallways of the flagship.

But that was when the laughter began.

**OoOoOo**

Stork was pressed flat against the front glass, squashed like a bug on a windshield.

"Owww…" he said, peeling himself free. He shook his head but that only made him more dizzy so he kept still until he could get his bearings. Just outside the front glass he could see the hallway of the flagship was waiting. Rummaging around for his trench coat and ignoring the way Junko and Finn were complaining, he pulled out an odd device from a pocket that lay in the inner lining of the coat. It looked a big like a plunger with a blade attached. Attaching the suction cup to the glass, he cut out a circle large enough for Junko to pass through, if he crouched. "C'mon!" Stork said, hopping into the hallways and landing in a semi crouch, ears whirling like radars. "I'd bet my life I saw Aerrow as we passed. I know it was him. That hair is just-" he turned around and shook his fist at Junko and Finn, who were still in the _Condor_. "Hey, did you not hear me say _C'mon_? Quit dawdling! Here!"

He thrust two familiar purple blossoms into their hands when they landed next to him. "Go. Go now, to the bridge. I saw Aerrow there."

"Whoa, Stork!" Finn said, holding the merlop at eye level. "How'd you get your hands on more of this stuff?"

"Starling and I made a detour," was the rushed explanation. "Now go, I have business elsewhere." He pulled a large schematic of the entire flagship out of his endless new pockets, yellow eyes roaming over them to reassure him of his destination. "We should crash in about… two minutes. Don't worry, no one will be hurt provided they're nowhere near the bridge. So go to the bridge and get Aerrow the hell out of there!"

"But dude, how are we going to get off of this thing?"

"We walk off. When we crash."

" _Stork_ -"

"I don't have time for this!" Stork said, gripping the front of Finn's shirt with a deranged gleam in his eyes. "I have to find her!"

"Find who?" Junko asked, tucking his merlop away inside his pants pocket.

Stork's eyelid twitched as he turned his attention now to the Wallop. "Olive, of course," he said, a smile spreading slowly across his face. "I have something _very_ special in store for her." Reaching inside his coat, he gripped something tightly to affirm that it was there. "I know where she is. I can smell her, all the way from here." He looked down to the schematics, bunched up in his other hand, wrinkled from when he had grabbed Finn while still holding onto it. "The schematics say that this area here is completely devoid of energy… all the time… so it's always dark in these four rooms…

"That's where she is. I know it."

Stork wheeled around, marching in the opposite direction from the bridge. "And I'm going there _alone_."

**OoOoOo**

The laughter rolled around them like the death knolls of a church bell- footsteps approached the hallway. Lark grabbed at Aerrow's staff, yanking it apart so that she held the dagger with the blue energy crystal and the Sky Knight had the red one. Almost as one they backed away as the laughter grew closer, and closer, until Aerrow had to bite back a scream when Nova stood in the entrance to the hallway, bloody grin lurid and gleaming in the semi darkness.

"You think it's that easy to kill a dead man?" Nova asked, Immer hovering just behind him. He hadn't attacked Aerrow after Nova died, not because he was shocked out of action, but because he knew Nova wasn't finished yet and he had promised not to interfere with the battle.

" _Shit_ -!" Lark said, hurling Aerrow's energy dagger at the man. The crystal inside exploded, caving in the entranceway. Aerrow didn't even have time to be stunned by the loss of his faithful weapon before she grabbed his upper arm and yanked him along, shouting, "Run- the escape pods- we- get out of here!"

They ran, contrary to Aerrow's nature and the fact that he had come here to end everything, they ran, climbing over bits of wreckage when they had to and falling to the floor sometimes as a gust of wind buffeted the two crashed ships in unexpected ways. And just when it seemed like there was no more hallway that wasn't blocked by bits of _Condor_ a large, rough hand erupted from the wall itself, latching onto Aerrow's shoulder and pulling him to a halt. Aerrow screamed in fright, wrenching free with a blast of energy at the hand.

"Owwww!" The hand said, on the verge of tears. "Aerrow, it's me- Junko!"

Aerrow froze, both hands gripping his remaining red energy dagger as Junko tore through the rest of the hallway wall. "Huh, guess there's more than one way to the bridge…" he mused, blinking owlishly at the pair. "Anyway, come on! Where's Nova and the Dark Ace? You take care of them?"

"N-no," Aerrow said, glancing behind him to see if they were giving chase. "But come on, maybe we can make it out of here before-"

The rest of his words were lost at the moment of collision.

**OoOoOo**

**On the Battlefield…**

"Jesus Christ, what are they doing!"

"It's the _Condor_!"

"The _Condor's_ crashing with the enemy flagship!"

The fighting stopped, a complete standstill. The gunners ceased fire. The Knights froze in the act of killing. The Talons turned their dead eyes to the two ships, knowing their half-life existed in the two men who piloted the flagship.

Every Skimmer, Switchblade, Slip Wing, and Ice Grinder pulled into a hover, so that where once there had been the noise of screams and death there was nothing but a thousand engines humming, waiting for the final crash.

When they did, it was as if the gun had fired to start the race. The fighting began again with a renewed frenzy on the part of the Atmosians. Despite the crippling numbers and overwhelming power of the Talon invasion force, the rage that filled the defenders was almost enough to strike fear back into the hearts of men who could not feel anything.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow**

_Are you dead?_

He didn't answer me.

_I asked you a question. Aren't you dead?_

Griffin stood away from my mother's grave to regard me with solemn green eyes _. Your name is Griffin, isn't it? You're supposed to be dead. That's what everyone says._ He began to walk towards me, walked past me without even acknowledging me, and walked off without another word. I turned around to watch him leave, feeling the rage grow inside my ten year old heart. It built up inside me, a rage at my mother's death and her silent life, and the many questions I always asked her and never received an answer from. And here he was, the man in the picture who stood with my mom, and he wouldn't answer me either. The anger inside me built until there was only one way to get rid of it, and that was letting it escape through my mouth in the form of-

 _Hey_ , asshole!

That made him stop. Finally.

 _I asked you a question!_ I shouted at his back, my arms rigid at my side and my face scrunched up to stave off shameful tears. _I asked you a question, you jerk!_

He had a crossbow strapped to his back. I didn't really notice it until he reached over and pulled it off. I was afraid for a moment that he was going to shoot me, but then he just put it on the floor. "Give that to Finn," he said. "It was his father's."

_Are you…_

He kept on walking and even though in that moment, I hated him, I hated him more than anyone; I couldn't help but want to follow him.

 _Are you…_ my _father?_

"No," he said shortly. "You don't have a father."

"You sure don't."

The voice is a new one. Suddenly the color drains from my world and I'm left standing in a vast field of nothingness. Everything was black, with no ups, or downs. Just a floor made of nothing, where footsteps approached. "Not literally, of course. That'd make you a biological anomaly." I couldn't say if I was floating or falling or standing on the brink of an everlasting nothingness from which there was no left or right or up or down and went on until eternity. It unnerved me. It made me scared. And above all, it made me angry at my powerlessness.

 _Who-?_ I started, indignant.

"It's me. Lark." Her face was pale, suddenly right in front of mine. Her voice floating inside my mind. I could see her clearly, her red eyes boring into mine. This world was unreal, this world of night and nothingness. "Cyclonis."

_Why am I-?_

"You're dead, Aerrow," she told me, bluntly. "You're a ghost."

When I looked down I saw my hands splashed with crimson, and a solid steel bar protruding from my chest. Quivering, my fingers ran along the bit of shrapnel from the crash, and from my cold lips I felt the words more than heard them…

_Oh, my God._

_Oh, my God._

_Ohmygod…_


	25. Boats Against the Current

**Lark.**

 **Two Years Ago.**

"So tell me about this Aviles Theory."

I sat at my crystal station, one leg thrown over the other as I started a lesson from another dead relative- this one my great aunt, a master crystallographer in life, and more so in death, given her ability to do nothing but unweave the intricate problems that had plagued her in life for hours on end. She, like all the other Cyclonian ghosts, was trapped to my will, trapped in a cage around me for no other reason than because I shared blood with her. My very DNA formed a net in the shape of a double helix, trapping them all into servitude, never to be released into the next level.

If there even was a next level. Sometimes, the ghosts themselves did not know if this was fancy left over from their life.

"Well, it was only a hypothesis when I was alive," she told me. "But I've gathered that recently the granddaughter of Aviles took up his research and proved it with experimentation. I understand she was able to harvest kinetic energy and-"

I lifted a hand, silencing her. "You're going too fast," I told her before settling back. "Explain from the beginning. Who was Aviles and what is his theory?"

She tilted her head to the side, eyes half-closed as she thought hard. It was odd to see this movement in her because I did it myself often. I liked this ghost, because the more I knew her the more I see bits of myself in her. It was comforting to know I had more relatives than just my father and brother to dwell upon.

"Pajaro Aviles proposed a hypothesis that… that…" she paused to think of it. "Well, I'll give you a mental picture to try and help you understand better. Can you imagine, for a moment, that the entire world- the air you breathe, the water you drink, the very fiber of your being and the being of everything around you, living and inanimate, is a giant crystal?"

I blinked slowly, not sure what she was getting at but allowing her to attempt to explain before I started asking questions. "A giant…?"

"A giant crystal. Everything is just one big crystal. Everything."

"…All right…"

"Like all crystals, this 'Giant Crystal' has energy coursing through it. Imagine, for a moment, that this giant crystal had points on it where that energy was more concentrated than usual."

"That's an impossible imagination, then," I said. "Crystal power and structure is uniform. That's what makes it a true solid. The crystal lattice-"

"Will you let me finish?"

"Fine. Fine." I rested my cheek in my hand, glaring sullenly at her. I could order her away, but then I wouldn't learn anything. Now was not the time for childish behavior.

"These points of high energy on the 'Giant Crystal' are the objects that we here understand to be a real and true crystal. Like these," she said, motioning to the crystals I had on my desk. I nodded. "But these are not true crystals in their own right. They're concentrations of essence from the real 'Giant Crystal'."

"And what _is_ the giant crystal, outside this metaphor you have created?"

"Energy. Sheer and raw and without form. But only the energy from a single facet of this Giant Crystal can be harvested and given usable form- or actually, four facets. The other three are the common phonic energies that are utilized in Glockenchime with the Timepulse, rare electric energy, and rarer still is being able to harness pure kinetic energy as a weapon and energy source."

"How many facets are there in the giant crystal that we could still use? I mean, what alternate energy sources have been hypothesized?" This was an interesting fact for me, because recently I'd been having some border issues. Terra Tundras- a profitable crystal mine- was legally under Cyclonian control, but Sky Knights from Terra Klime had been attacking my forces there. At times, this caused a shortage in crystal supplies and I'd been forced to put a ration on them. This did not cause good feelings to stir amongst my subjects. If I could harness some alternate energy source it would give me an unimaginable edge over my rivals, who would still be forced to mine for crystals while I…

I decided to have my scientists look into it.

"How many other facets?" I repeated.

She shrugged. "No one knows. There might not be any more than four. Even kinetic energy has only been recreated in a laboratory environment. The others are harder to control. Crystals are the ones with the highest concentration of this pure energy, the energy of the 'giant crystal'. And that high concentration is why it is easier to manipulate crystals than free roaming energy, such as kinetic and potential energy."

This was a lot to digest. "This theory is proven, you say?"

"It's commonly accepted, yes."

I dismissed her, to leave me with my thoughts.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Starling**

 **One Month Ago.**

"I remember it all. I remember how I tried my hardest not to look over the maps that whole time, but the further we flew from home the more I needed some form of reassurance other than the word of a four-year old-you."

Stork said nothing,

"Of course Griffin- the previous leader of the Storm Hawks," I explained when Stork made a questioning noise in the back of his throat. "Griffin couldn't help but notice my newfound skill in piloting the _Condor_ \- piloting her almost as well as Verna had flown her. He and Ga- and another… another friend both felt it was too soon to be taking off, especially when the Storm Hawks might be called upon at any moment to defend Atmos. But I told them, Griffin and the other three Storm Hawks that were left, if they didn't let me do this one thing, they could go out and find another pilot. And I suppose there must have been something in my eyes when I looked at him and told him we were leaving that he said, _Yes_.

"You had told me Vern showed you a place that was not on the maps. And I was inclined to believe you, even though I hadn't seen Vern since that last moment when she left me forever. So considering it wasn't on the maps, it truly was foolish of me to keep on consulting them, knowing that all the while my new team mates were watching my back with wary eyes, watching me to see if I had truly cracked.

" _Stork, are you sure Vern showed you this?_ I had asked you.

"You looked up at me, silent for the longest time. _No,_ you said in the end. _She doesn't talk much. It might have been someone else._ And no matter how much I pleaded and bribed, you had clammed up and returned to you silent shell, and nothing I could do would crack it.

" _You do realize there's nothing out here…_ Griffin finally said, walking towards the helm where I stood, scanning the empty horizon through the great front glass. I decided not to answer, and we were both surprised when you answered for me.

" _Yes there is,_ you said, a mess of crayons all around you, and nonsense doodles on the paper and floor. _This is where the merbs live."_

Stork watched me with those same massive yellow eyes, the eyes that seemed blank even though deep inside them I could see so many questions, so much doubt and anger. It was like I was both Starlings, living then in the _Condor_ and living then in my basement, and Stork always accusing me silently with his eyes.

"Griffin was sort of shaken by the way you were acting, trying to tell you that merbs lived, of course, on Terra Merb, but you wouldn't listen to him or to me, not that I tried much. I'll admit I'd given up hope on you at that point. _This is where the merbs live_ , you kept on saying. _They told me._

"Of course, any queries of " _Who_ told you?" were completely ignored.

"That night I decided to go out flying. Or- decided is a misnomer. Someone decided for me, I guess, because I felt more than heard a voice, telling me it was time to leave. I got out of bed, my eyes bright and alert almost as soon as my feet hit the floor, and in no time I had my armor strapped on and my helmet under my arm as I walked from my borrowed room on the _Condor_ to the hangar. I'd been living there ever since the Interceptors and your mother Vernal and Finn's father Finch had died. The doors always were squeaky, in need of oil, and the whirring power of the crystal motors on the automatic sliders were always too fast, slamming the doors open and shut. But when I approached they slid open as easy and silent as a ghost.

"The _Condor_ knew I wanted- or needed- to leave, and she didn't stop me that day, nor any other day that has come to pass since that time."

Stork spoke. "I don't understand," he said, voice sullen as he shocked me out of my narrative. I was afraid to let him speak, in case what he said would keep me from finishing. I wasn't sure if I wanted to finish. I wasn't sure of anything, except that I _had_ to finish no matter what I wanted. "I don't care about any of that! Just admit what you did wrong!"

"I did everything wrong, Stork, but I can promise you I didn't kill your father."

To look in his eyes at that moment was seeing the twitch, like a switch in his brain had been violently turned on again after a brief moment of inactivity. Stork's bindings made a snapping sound as he lunged for me again, struggling with renewed fervor. "Of course you didn't!" he snarled, inches from my face, but I know the limit of his bonds and he was nowhere near strong enough to break them. "You just fucked around a little, didn't you? _Didn't you?_ Even though you _know_ about the curse! You-"

Reaching for the dial on the machine he was connected to, I raised the voltage to temporarily high levels to shut him up. Really, if I had thought talking to him would have calmed him down better I would have done it, but I knew by then that Stork was… Stork wasn't doing so well mentally, these days. If ever. "If you don't calm down I'm not going to let you go to the bathroom when I'm done," I said smoothly while he panted like a dog, shivering all over from the electric currents interfering with his neural functions. It wasn't painful, just disorienting. I'm not a sadist, thanks.

Rebellion was stirred anew in his eyes.

"Are you going to be quiet? You know, I didn't even know Hibiscus had died until you told me yourself. All I'm doing here is telling you my side- everything I know. You can piece together the rest for yourself."

Stork said nothing, resuming his angry silence, and I continued.

"You were waiting for me in the hangar, also fully dressed, and when I pulled up my Slip Wing you climbed into the seat in front of me. I drove out of the hangar and flew off, and sometimes you'd guide me and sometimes I'd know where to go by myself.

"It wasn't long before I realized there was someone else flying nearby. I looked around- and-" Speaking was getting hard to do when I got to this point. Up until now I'd been a constant monotone, like someone else was using my voice to dryly transmit information, no emotion attached, but now was the hard part. Now was when the truth all came tumbling out. "And that was when I saw him.

"He was grey. It's so odd, that was the first thing I noticed about him, but he was deep grey like ashes."

Stork's breath caught in his throat and he looked away, eyes closing and breathing growing sharper.

"And he was like nothing I'd ever seen…" I mused, wondering if Stork was even listening at this point, or had maybe slipped back into unconsciousness somehow. "Not human…not merbian… I was terrified. He was much larger than me, too- taller even than a full-blooded merb. I'm surprised you didn't grow as big, but then again you're more mixed in with the Thanatos and Tenebrian folk… I guess… His human parent must have been gigantic.

"He attacked me without warning.

"It was only a few moments after I had spotted him but as soon as I did, he came charging right at me like a mad man on a toy skimmer. That's how large he was, I suppose… that a full-sized skimmer looked so… But he flew with great grace. I remember that. But I was more skilled than he, after all I was the leader of the Interceptors and a great Sky Knight at the prime of my life, at that time. But I had you there, holding onto me so tight even though you hated to be touched. I had one arm wrapped around you-"

"Stop," the teenager suddenly choked. "Stop it. I can't stand it- You're making me _sick_ -You're a _liar_ -"

Not willing to let him interrupt me further, in case I lost the memories that were suddenly so vivid in my mind, I zapped him again for him to be quiet. I had started my story after fifteen years of silence. Nothing would stop me now, but for Providence, or maybe my untimely death. Or would it be untimely? What, exactly, is the _right_ time to die?

Certainly we feel that there's a process- we are born- we live- we grow old- we die- but that's not always how it works. It doesn't have to be that way. Nothing in this world _has_ to be, and if it did it wouldn't _have_ to be because we wish it were so. There are simply things that are- and things that could be. Death strikes without warning, without meaning. Seeds wither and die in their mother's wombs. Old men fade in their sleep- or worse, spasm in agonizing pain, their faces almost comical in the way they stretch, unreal in their death throes as their body finally falls to time's blade. Women and children are slaughtered by the warriors who break down the siege doors.

It's just the way things are.

It's just the way things happened.

It's just how things are always going to be.

"Somehow, we crashed. We crashed into the Wastelands, and when I came to he was there on the floor, about to be devoured by some creature. I saved him. At first he wasn't ready to trust me, but with you he…

"I didn't know he was your father. I didn't know until you told me, that day in Tenebria, when Finn was dying. All I know is that we helped each other crawl out of that hell, taking turns carrying you on our backs as we scaled the bare crags of earth that shot out over the cloud line, where we found my skimmer. He and I fixed it, and after all that the only thing he shared with me was that his name was Hibiscus Snowfire. He led me back to Tenebria, to take care of the wounds you suffered in the crash. And then he… And then he…"

I broke down, shocked into tears at the memory and shocked at myself for the sudden outburst of emotion. I couldn't speak for a while after that, frozen on the words… _And then… and then he… and then…_ they were interspersed through the hiccups, shameful tears, idle tears, because there was no point in crying over it now. That's what I tried to tell myself, but there was no helping it until everything was out, everything bottled inside.

"He… He _took_ you…"

I didn't know what Stork was doing- if he was asleep or listening or crying with me.

"He took you away from me… The only thing I had left, of Vern, he took it from me, and I never saw either of you again, until it was too late, and you didn't even remember me. I didn't even recognize you- God, I didn't even recognize _Aerrow_ until we were back on the _Condor_ and he's my-

"….."

I calmed myself enough to finish. My voice did not shake, but my hands did, so I supposed it was a fair trade off. And yet still, I couldn't stop those wretched, idle tears.

"I tried looking for you. But.. Tenebria… you know what Tenebria is like. The merbs of Thanatos were no help, either. They said to give you up for dead and… I just stopped looking. I stopped everything, and began my life as a lone wolf. They said to give you up for dead and…"

"And you did." His voice is flat. Not accusing, for once. Just flat, like the deadline on the machines that monitor the hearts of patients. It startled me enough to stop the endless flow from my eyes to force me to look at him again rather than at my shaking hands.

"Because I'm cursed," I dared to whisper, because his sudden mood shift let loose the last of the torrent hiding just behind the floodgates. "Because everyone I get close to… everyone I love… They all die, Stork.

"They all die.

"Without warning.

"Without meaning."

 **OoOoOo**

 **Rave.**

 **Seven Years Ago.**

It was golden.

I scratched at my soft, pink, human-like neck, at the spot where the collar chafed. Compulsively, I tore at my skin until it bled and then, quivering with rage and helplessness, I slammed my entire body against the steel frame of the box- once- twice- before my energy drained from me as suddenly at it had graced my limbs and I was left huddled inside my box, my mind a complete blank. Though I could see in the dark it felt like some other shroud, blacker than night, had wrapped itself so tightly around my mind I could do nothing, think nothing.

I had been sold like an animal, when I didn't even belong to Cyclonia. Not like this, anyway. Not in the way livestock belong to the owners. I thought I was a citizen. I thought I was a soldier- I was going to be a soldier- I was going to help fight this war- I graduated top of my class, damn it, my advanced, elite class-

What did this _mean_?

Was this another test? Did the teachers expect me to escape? Did Cyclonis himself watch me when they pinned that badge on my chest? Was he the one who signed me over?

I jumped, the hair on the back of my neck bristling when a clawed hand tapped the side of the great steel box. "Be quiet in there, my pet. We'll be home soon, and if you behave you may be given… liberties."

I didn't trust myself to speak. I may have graduated top of my class with all the other twenty-somethings, but I was still only ten years old. But I couldn't stop a small mewl escaping my mouth, a frightened noise I barely heard, but he heard it. He laughed, talking to someone outside the box.

"Did you hear that, Felipe? Now isn't that adorable. I'm so glad I made this transaction- how many others, do you think, own such a specimen as this? Half-bangledon. Fully blooded bangledons are rare enough. Be sure her wrists are marked the moment we land. I don't want this one escaping."

Escaping what?

What kind of people bought other people?

What kind of emperor sold his own loyal subjects?

Rebellion simmered inside me.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Present Day.**

Smoke fills my eyes as I return from unconsciousness. The _Alley_ \- center of most of the action due in part to Wiggy's reckless flying and the fact that just about everywhere was center of the action for the Atmosians at this point- had taken another direct hit and I could only assume the chunk ripped out of the wall could not be fixed by breathing fire on it this time. Getting to my feet, ears flapping in the rushing winds, I look to see the only functional gun left is being manned by the Nord woman. I hiss when two Talons hop inside the wound on the _Alley's_ side, brandishing their spears with matching growls.

"Need some help, kit?" the Nord asks me, not even looking away from the sights.

I extend the staff of my slingshot, goosebumps rising all over my flesh at the familiar uniform. "No thanks," I say, gripping it diagonally across my chest in a defensive stance. "I… got this."

But without warning, the Nord shoots from her seat like an animal, lunging directly at one of the Talons while I go after his partner. She doesn't have a weapon that I could see, so she clamps down on his neck with her fierce, strong jaws crunching through vertebrae and cutting short his frightened scream.

Mine comes running at me, spear point first. I catch it with the Y tip of my staff, pointing it upwards while I lift up one foot and kick him square in the chest. He stumbles backwards and I don't let up, driving him back and to the floor where I pin him down with the Y of my staff pressed against his neck. He scrabbles at it, face turning purple, and then there's no face left when a furry, clawed foot stomps down hard on it, and the skull caves in. I look up warily at the Nord, knowing full well that they were natural enemies of my father's race.

"Afraid to get a little brutal, kitty?" she asks me, toes gripping and relaxing in the mess.

"I'm not scared of anything," I lie fiercely, throwing my chin up in defiance.

"Then let's go back out there," she says, wiping one foot against the steel floor of the _Alley_. "I'm getting bored, sitting around picking them off with the cannons."

In spite of myself I draw back, collapsing my staff back into a slingshot again. "I'm all out of ammunition," I tell her. "And the only ride on board is Wiglaf's Hummer."

Her broad face is split in two by a predatory grin.

 **OoOoOo**

 _Cli-click-click-click._

I stood at attention, like I would during Ravess's surprise drills. Only I was completely alone, and there were five strange men staring me down. One of them was going over my credentials, the other one was checking me out for a moment before he dismissed me, perhaps not aroused by a kitten he had found shaking like a bowl of gelatin inside her box. The other three were intent on just being as downright menacing as they could, especially their leader, who was pacing back and forth before me. I was a little more in control of myself now that I was at least able to stand up straight, and so when he paused to stand in front of me I looked him in his solid green eyes.

"From here on out, Rave, you are to be my servant."

I looked up. And up. And Up. I'd never seen this freak before, never even heard of his species. I decided not to say anything.

The monster resumed his pacing. "You needn't worry that I'll harm you, or whore you. Quite the opposite. I need strong young people like yourself to be a part of my personal vanguard. If you work for me, Rave, you will soon find that being sold to me has its extreme advantages."

"Who _are_ you?" I blurted at last, figuring since he'd breached so many military protocol already I was allowed a moment of disrespect. Nevermind that things in the Talon Academy were never that fair- I was far from the Talon Academy now. "Why did Cyclonis… sell me?"

He seemed taken aback, his torso leaning back from me, shoulders rigid in displeasure and looking down at me like I was a puddle of weepy gelatin again, instead of a hard little soldier who was glaring at him with belligerence in my eyes. "You would think the hand-picked chosen of Cyclonis himself would know a bit more about the world," the thing purred.

I shook my head. "No, Sir. I don't think."

That made him laugh, clutch at his large belly with claws the size of my face. Then he leaned forward and down until we were around the same eye level, his putrid breath ruffling the scarce fur on my ears. "Ah, yes! That is his style- repression and discipline. Oh, Veratrin and Horace were ever their father's sons."

My ears flickered upon hearing the real names of the previous two Cyclonis's spoken so casually. Either I'd been sold to a very powerful man or an utter idiot. My wrists burned with the marks they had inflicted on me, brand marks for a slave who could never run away, and my neck was sore from my own self-inflicted torture. The collar still chafed, only now it was against raw bloody skin.

The monster drew himself up to his full height once more, gesturing to himself grandly and smiling at me with a mouth full of wicked sharp teeth. "You may call me Colonel," he said to me in a distinct yet oddly untraceable accent. Then that clawed hand snapped out to grab mine, pressing a kiss against the top. "You are to be the highlight of my new army, Rave. Instead of scraping and struggling for a promotion among those racist human soldiers, you will be respected for the force of nature that you are, here among my people.

I stared blankly at him. "If I'm so respected, then why did you do this to me?" I asked him, holding up both my hands to show him the red welts, intricate spider webs curling around my wrists.

His lips curled up in a smile. "Insurance," he said, turning his back on me. "After all, though you are half-human, you are also half-bangledon. This gives you strength, but it's known that bangledons are all _savage_ beasts anyway."

The Colonel was very unlucky that he happened to have his back turned to me at that moment, because the word _savage_ peeled my upper lips back until my long fangs were bared at him, my body quivering now not from fear but from rage. If he had seen me at that brief instant he would have known that he didn't have a faithful servant in me, not for one moment. Then he wouldn't have wasted all those years training me further, wouldn't have given me enough trust to let me leave, wouldn't have suffered the loss of one of his mansions after the Giants attacked it and rescued me after months of planning with them in secret. Then he wouldn't have my hate, for killing my father to ensure I would never have a home to return to, that there could only be _him_.

Not that the hate of a heap of quivering jelly was much to a man like him.

But he didn't see. So when he turned around my face was a soldier's blank, careful mask.

"What are your first orders, Colonel?" I asked him.

He seemed surprised at first, knowing our reputation of being independent. But then, the conditioning of Talon Academy had already done an impressive job of mostly suppressing that. He grinned at last, thinking he had won me over, and I stared blankly at him, beginning to think the same.

 **OoOoOo**

I piloted, since the Nords rode Floe models. At first she wanted to see if she could control the turrets while I controlled the engine and flight path, but a sudden idea struck me. "Get on the wings," I tell her. "Like the Dark Ace."

"Huh! The day I take battle advice from a pup-"

"You can hop on board the enemy rides and rip them apart," I say by way of persuasion. It works. After unequipping the cannons to make her lighter and easier to fly, we rocket out of the hangar bay, the Nord woman crouching on my right wing, gripping tightly to it with a the strap of my spare goggles parting the thick fur on her head.

It occurs to me that I haven't flown a Skimmer in five years, ever since I gave them up for the more travel-ready hoverboard that I could keep strapped to my back in case there was need for a quick getaway. I decide not to tell her this.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Piper**

Light blinds me as the Talon levers off a sheet of metal that covered me, quickly holding my chin up with the crystal tip of his spear when he sees what he's uncovered. My whole lower body is pinned- maybe broken in places even I don't know the name of.

"Still alive, are you?" he asks me. His hair was matted against the side of his face with dried blood, and I felt tempted to ask him the same question despite the danger I was in.

"Look," I say, lifting my limp hands up to try and stave him off. There were three of him in my hazy vision, and I was dazedly thinking I could negotiate with him. Them. When did he sprout triplets? For a moment, it seemed almost as if someone had replaced my brain with Finn's. "It might seem like a _really_ good idea to kill me now, but lemme tell you where you're wrong."

But just as he thrust in his spear for the killing blow, a green, three-fingered hand grabs his shoulder and yanks him back. This Talon isn't short, but he has to crane his neck to look up at his new attacker. He got only a view of one furious yellow eye before a fist connected with his face, sending him flying backwards. I think I might have even seen a tooth knocked loose. Clawed feet stride over to me, a dry hiss filling the space behind him where his tail drags along the floor.

Repton peels the rest of the rubble off of me, and when I wiggle my toes I'm rewarded with the rush of blood returning to them. I hadn't been able to feel them because they'd been asleep, not because of any spinal injury, thank God. But I don't have much time to thank God because Repton hauls me upright, glaring me straight in the eyes. Eye. One of his was clamped shut, a mound of dirty gauze hiding what was most likely a hideous sword wound.

His voice is grating, harsh, like he hadn't spoken for quite some time. "I'm here to help," he rasps, single yellow eye daring me to contradict. I don't, so he pulls me even closer to him by the front of my shirt, muscles along his jaw twitching from the force of his clenched teeth. "Where. Is. Nova?"

I point wordlessly to where I thought the bridge was. I was disoriented after the crash, unsure even of what I was doing here, or why Repton was suddenly helping me, or why he was covered in such recent, terrible wounds.

"The crystal shard?" he asks.

"Uh- what crystal shard?" I ask in return.

"The crystal shard," he says, tail wrapping around my wrist and yanking me along. "The one I gave you for your work on Bogaton. Who has it? Where is it? Did you ever get it to work?"

"Get _what_ to work?"

" _The crystal shard_!" he shouts full in my face and I have to wince. " _The goddamn crystal shard, the one that I risked my neck to find in the first place!"_

I slap his tail from my wrist and the offending appendage shrinks away. " _Well, I never got any crystal shard!_ "I shout back at him, my senses returned. In response he glares at me so violently I thought I might be joining the knocked-out Talon on the floor behind us.

"You-" he says, fighting to control himself as he forces his eye to look away from me. "Crystal scope- got one?"

I understood. "Yeah…"

"Use it."

There is a crystal scope attached to my staff, so I have no problem switching it on.

What I see astounds me.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Starling.**

Something catches my fall. I halt with an 'urhmph' sound, caught in two burly arms. Gauntleted claws hold me tight and I look up the snout of an adult male raptor. He looks down at me with a sheepish smile, probably guessing what I was thinking, and shrugs.

"You looked like you needed a little help," he explains, Mohawk of spikes rippling in the wind, his face turning a little greener as his eyes spot the purple Interceptor logo on my chest.

"Look! Look! I got a souvenir!" Wasp shouts with delight, her voice uncharacteristically girlish as she waves a disembodied hand in the air with a relish.

The raptor winces.

I settle myself down behind him, putting my arms around his waist and pointing upwards. "That woman is one of the enemy commanders," I told him. "We have to take her out."

"Then let's do it," their Sky Knight says, pointing his scimitar upwards. " _Charge_!"

 **OoOoOo**

 **Piper.**

We find it in Finn's room, of all the rotten places. Under piles of dirty socks, amidst a collection of cheap crystals we find it nestled there, as if waiting for us. The blue sheen of the crystal shard glows only brighter when I pick it up between two shaking fingertips.

It was a shard of the Stone.

The largest shard of the Aurora Stone that I had ever seen.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Aerrow.**

What could I do? I was dead. There was no way I could have warned them- _Nova is coming, run_. But then, Lark could have told them. She could have done something too, other than sit there and pretend she wasn't talking to me while Junko began to sob uncontrollably and Finn tried to pull the shrapnel out of my chest. He succeeded and my two friends held my dead body, not knowing that I was standing right there next to them and they were wasting their time.

"He's coming for your body," Lark tells me now. There are two Larks- one enshrouded by night like I am, the other very much alive and instructing my two squadron mates on what to do now.

The live Lark says, "We'd better get him out of here. If Nova finds him like this he'll be able to bring back the body."

"Indeed I could."

It was too late. While they had been struck with indecision here came Nova, strolling along like he owned the place and Immer hovering just behind him like a true ghost, deadpan, without any of the fire and hatred I would always see in his face back when we were both alive. His red eyes look up, right at me- the real me, not the body on the floor.

"Preserve the body, would you Immer?" Nova purrs. "You Storm Hawks are welcome to join us as well, after we bring your friend back. Wouldn't you like that?"

"What a fucking disaster," dead-Lark says to me, one hand over her face so she doesn't have to see this. "I thought if we could run and regroup we'd be able to stop him, but you just had to keel over, didn't you, Hero?"

"Am I really dead?" I have to wonder as Immer strides fearlessly towards Junko, who holds me as close as a girl holds her doll, my face against his chest and his head against my hair. Junko lets go of me easily, though, letting me slip through his fingers, and Finn can only watch with his blue eyes wide and uncomprehending.

Immer holds my body bridal style even as he looks directly at the real me, and I know that he can see me too. "Not what you expected death to be like, is it?" I hear a voice behind me and Immer is there too, a dead-Immer for the dead-Lark. I jump away in fear, melting right through where Finn stands. It makes me wonder what I'm standing on- the ground? Did walls exist anymore?

"If it were up to me I'd leave you dead," Immer spits at me with some of his old passion. He glances over at Lark now, almost sullen. "And what about you? You're not bound to Nova, are you just going to sit here and let it happen? Let Aerrow come back as a puppet I'll have to deal with every day from here until eternity?" He grabs her. "Use the merlop on him, fool! Before Nova can bring him back our way!"

"Junko," live-Lark whispers to my friend, and he slowly raises his head. "Do you have this thing called… mer.. lop?"

"Now, now, before he makes me use the crystal!" dead-Immer shouts, and Nova half turns upon hearing the name of the medicinal plant, and live-Immer shuffles with me in his hands while trying to pull out an Oblivion crystal, and Finn finally snaps and pulls up his crossbow, screaming, " _Over my dead body_!" and Junko gingerly holds a single purple petal between his thick, deft fingers, and dead-Lark pushes me towards my own body.

"Try to fix this mess you created," she says.

Finn shoots, knocking the crystal out of Immer's hands and my body falls from his arms as he tries to catch the valuable stone, fumbling with it in midair. Lark lunges, chewing on the merlop Junko gave her.

Purple light envelops the room, but not before I feel her lips on mine, forcing the merlop into my mouth with her tongue.

 **OoOoOo**

 **Omniscient.**

The battle outside would have been lost if _they_ had not arrived.

The gold-and-purple fleet hailed them all and the fighting stopped for a second time, each side wondering, _Is that our backup, or is that their backup?_

When the Colonel's flagship bombed a Cyclonian cruiser, the answer was soon apparent.

"Pah!" the man said, a small gleep in his arms. He stroked the reptile fondly the way you might a cat. "These Cyclonians, they're beginning to get on my nerves, dying and coming back and dying and- bah! Be sure nothing is left of them, Felipe. I'm off to have my sunset meal."

 **OoOoOo**

No matter what they did, it seemed like Kitten was always one step ahead of them. When Angel would shoot with his crossbow she would flick them away moments after they had been shot. Stork threw one of her axes, but the crystal tip of Kitten's whip sliced through the cord the blond used to retract them and the weapon went spiraling down to the Wastelands. The girl didn't try that again, not wanting to be left weaponless.

"What is this girl, a damn mind reader?" Angel cursed. From his radio Starling could hear a thick accented voice answering him.

" _I could always take a shot to try and smush her outta the skies, eh? Pull another one of them kamikaze moves that seem so freggen' popular all of a sudden._ "

"And risk hitting all of us instead?" Varan snorted. "No way, fleabag!"

" _Psh, like I'd risk scratchin' the_ Merlin _anyway_."

"She's using crystals to enhance her vision," Wasp said suddenly, mismatched eyes focusing on the darting figure. "She's no mind-reader, just extraordinarily perceptive."

"Are you sure, Wasp?" Stork asked, gripping the controls to be ready in case they needed to duck another whiplash strike.

Wasp blinked owlishly down at the other girl. "About what?"

"About what you just said!"

"Oh." Wasp paused. "…Sure. Totally." She held on tight to her seat as Stork veered upwards, eyes narrowed against the winds. Stork saw the whip coming and darted to the side only to find the whip had changed trajectory- almost before Stork had even dodged it- and got a nasty shock, the whip wrapping around her neck and her Hornet flying off without her. Stork dangled in the air, legs kicking furiously against the fading blue sky. Kitten braced herself, half-standing on her Slip Wings foot pedals and pulling on the whip with both hands, jerking it, trying to snap the girl's neck. Wasp veered around on Stork's Hornet, trying to snatch the blond out of the air but Kitten lifted one foot, kicking at the controls to her Slip Wing and dancing just out of the way, every grasp of Wasp's long fingers clutching only air with Stork always barely out of range.

"Fly over her!" Starling suddenly shouted to Varan. The lizard complied and Starling leaped from the Bone Wing, aiming for Kitten. Predictably, Kitten swerved out of the way, but Starling had changed her target last minute to cling to the sides of the Slip Wing instead. The added weight made the ride dip uncontrollably. Kitten, trying to keep her balance, let go of the whip to windmill her arms, single blue eye widening in shock. Stork dropped like a stone, limbs flapping limply in the winds until Wasp, Varan, Angel, and Shade all pooled under her. She was caught in a net of arms, head lolling to the side when they tried to sit her upright.

"She's knocked out," Angel said, scorn in his voice. "God, what a-"

He almost fell out of the skies when Stork came to, leg whipping out to catch him right in the crotch.

And that was when they realized Starling was still on Kitten's ride, and Kitten's ride was zooming away faster every second.

Starling grabbed the front of Kitten's shirt, smashing her down against the controls and shouting in her face, "Why are you doing this, Rissa?"

Kitten bared her sharp, filed teeth, her single blazing blue eye glaring at Starling. The ride dipped again, wings unstable with no one at the controls. Starling found herself beneath Kitten now, with Kitten's scarred, veined hands gripping at her throat.

" _My name-"_ Kitten switched so that she was holding Starling's neck with only one hand, legs wrapped around Starling's in a deadly lock, ignoring the way Starling beat at her with desperation in her hands. She punched Starling with her free hand. _"Is not_ -" she punched her again, and when Starling's head whipped to the side in the direction of the blow she punched again in the other direction, blood spattering as the Interceptor's nose finally broke under the abuse. "- _RISSA ANYMORE_!"

Starling gasped through the flow of blood that ran down her throat, choking on it before she reached up with one hand to grip at the back of Kitten's neck, squeezing it in the right place so that Kitten let go of her to writhe in silent pain, her spinal chord one long column of agony. She let go to rip aside the woman's eye patch, where a purple crystal went tumbling out of the empty eye socket to bounce against the metal plating of the Slip Wing and tumble down. Kitten screamed, falling backwards on the ride, one hand covering her empty eye while the other one stared out at nothing, and was horrified at what it saw.

"My eye!" Kitten shouted, stumbling dangerously close to the edge of her ride. "What did you do to my _eye_!"

"Rissa!"

" _You pulled out my eye_!"

"Rissa, _stop or you're going to-_!"

With a savage scream Kitten blindly stepped again, only her foot landed on nothing and she fell right down the same path her crystal had, her inhuman shriek following like a spectral shroud. "Rissa, hold on, I'm coming!" Starling said, hopping forward to grasp the controls and eagle dive, plunging through the cloud line and shouting Rissa's name even though the Rissa she knew was gone in more ways than one. She looked around for a falling body, a wave of shining blond hair, and even listened to see if she was still shouting, but there was so much noise from the battlefield and so many bodies falling- not all of them with parachutes- she couldn't have found her.

Even if Rissa had wanted to be found.

 **OoOoOo**

Soon after that was when the sun fell, up against the ropes bleeding for a while but finally down for the count once it saw there was nothing left fighting for. Headlights blazed into life and the fight down below continued, the Atmosians beating the Cyclonians back into a corner with the unexpected help of the Colonel's fleet of well-stocked warships. The Colonel himself was sitting from a safe vantage point, feeding choice bits of his dinner to his new pet gleep, Komodo. Since gleeps only ate mushrooms, the Colonel had recently become a huge fan of them, especially the pungent, Death's Head variety. He wondered how he lived without knowing the joy of having some of the toxic fungi in existence being shoved down his gullet.

"Enjoying the show, Tora?" he asked someone hovering behind him, in the shadows of the flagship.

"Not particularly," a deep man's voice replied. "You seem a bit detached yourself, Colonel. Want a massage to help you digest?"

"Aheh heh. From you?" The Colonel's eyes swept over to the shaggy, brilliantly white creature and then back to the battlefield, where his green pupils dilated as they spotted the monstrous blue warship known as the Giant's _Eldritch Alley._ "…No."

 **OoOoO**

 **End of the "Life Without Stork" arc.**

 **Beginning of the "Boats Against the Current" arc.**


	26. Morning Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."

**Rave**.

When I saw the _Condor_ crash I wanted to scream. Wanted to scream, but I didn't.

Instead I started swearing my face off and dove down.

Authenti- the Nord woman- used a stolen spear to pierce through the wing of a Switchblade, fishing it close so she could reach out and kick the rider right off his seat. After pulling the spearhead free she looked down, the winds blowing directly into her face, drying the blood on her eyelids. I saw her blinking away the suddenly gummy substance gluing her eyes together. She pawed at it, not knowing what it was that had me in such a state of panic until she cleared her eyes and saw for herself.

"The group of rotten eggs have gone and crashed their ship!" she exclaimed, hanging on for dear life as I sped towards the wreckage, wondering how anyone could survive a crash like that. It was hard to tell where the _Condor_ ended and the Cyclonian flagship began, so enmeshed in each other's ruins they seemed like one hunk of great metal.

And now I land, the Terra-mode of Wiglaf's hummer screeching against the cobblestones of Atmosia as I leap from the controls, stumbling as my feet hit the floor and somehow managing to keep my balance and keep on running with the momentum, letting the Hummer skid onwards on its own. I run until I reached the flank of the great ship, slamming into it and banging the flats of my hands against the hull of what must have been the _Condor_ , because I can see the proud hawk brazen on its side, wings spread to catch the winds.

And then I scream.

" _Finn_!" I say, and as soon as I say it I'm shocked by the savage way the word spews from my lips, reminded of everything I hate by my ragged not-quite claws gripping the surface of the _Condor's_ side, my arm warmers slid down just enough to see the edge of my wrists and the intricate tattoo lines weaving in and out of each other. The vibration of my feet pounding against the floor floods through me, all I can feel is just such a huge terror and loathing directed at… at… I don't even know what I'm doing, except I _need_ to find a way on that ship. My feet move by themselves and I'm only dimly aware of the ragged, elegant blue-grey shape that follows me like a ghost with a grudge. Authenti is scanning the ship, too, only I get the feeling she's just tagging along for the ride. Nords are like that- distant. Cold.

She whistles once to me, a quick, screaming sound and my ears twitch towards her. Authenti points up at a gash in the side and cups her hands together. I get it at once, leaping up on the step she had provided with her clasped hands and then wriggling through, tumbling forward and down onto the floor of a hallway- the _Condor's_ hallway.

"Good hunting…" I hear faintly, and when I look through the crack in the wall Authenti is gone, and Wiglaf's hummer with her.

**OoOoOo**

**Piper**

"I don't know what- I don't understand why they- they never told me about this," I somehow manage to stammer, losing myself in the brilliance of the single facet of the Shard. The only other time I'd seen it was when Carver broke in- and when Aerrow got to hold it… when he held it in his hands like he was cradling it… I could have burned alive with envy.

And now I am holding it. A part of it, anyway. My hands are shaking, shaking like a pilgrim finally reaching the Holy Land. This.. This thing belongs in a _museum_. The Beacon Tower was no more than a pile of rubble at this point, like half of Atmosia, so obviously I couldn't return it there. Someone needed to keep this precious thing safe.

I hold the Shard away from me, almost afraid to look away yet unable to even process what it might mean if I kept it with me. "What am I supposed to do with it?" I ask Repton of all people- well, I mean, he was the one who had it in the first place, so he must have some clue. Besides, he's the only one with me right now.

His single yellow eye glares at me, his tail making curt, swift jerks from side to side and his jaw set in an angry display of short-fused patience. "You're the c _rysssss_ tal expert- you tell me. Is there a way to make a broken stone work correctly?"

I shake my head no and he growls. "Useless scrap of… shoulda sold it when I had the chance." Absently, his paw runs over the patch of white gauze that covers his wounded eye, head spikes twitching.

I know I need to find Aerrow, but I can't help but wonder- is this the end of Repton's help? A fully grown Raptor is nothing to sneeze at, even a wounded one. Maybe together we could clean out the ship of Cyclonian rats. Why was he even helping me in the first place? "What… happened?" was all I could manage to get out from all the questions bouncing around in my brain.

Repton looks sharply at me and I want to shrink away, but I meet his gaze fearlessly. His mouth twists in disdain. "Nova happened," he finally said. "My cousin Tork owes you a life debt; I'm paying it. I'm the only one left who can.

"That's all."

I wonder if he means what I think he means. But I'm looking at his wounds, at the mad, vengeful light in his eyes, at the fact that he's not ripping my throat out, and I know there's nothing left to ask. "Let's go," I say. "Nova should be in the bridge."

Repton's voice is a throaty growl. "Lead me there, girl. I can't… see so well."

"Yeah," I say. "OK."

**OoOoOo**

**Faroe.**

A shock of white hair is the first thing I see when I come to. I force the bile back down my throat, wondering if I had lost the vision in one of my eyes when I realize it's just glued tight with blood. I twitch, fingers reaching for my spear, but it's far out of my reach and the girl… the bangledon girl approaches me, reaching with one clawed hand for my face. Her lips part, just enough to see strong white canines.

"Faroe?" she says, eyebrows pushed together in concern, confusion sketched across her face.

I blink.

"It's you, isn't it? Drill Sergeant Faroe?"

That snaps me out of it. "It's _Commander_ Faroe to you, Kross," I say, finally realizing who she is. I always remember my valedictorians. I have a filing cabinet in my office, listing them by year and by name, and the most recent news I had received of them.

 _Rave Kross, M.I.A., presumed dead._ It's emblazoned across her forehead and yet here she stands. "Am I dead too?" I ask her, because that's the most reasonable thing that comes to mind. She doesn't answer me, looking around her like someone who knows they are being tailed. "I'm going to help you out of here," she says in a soft voice. "But if we bump into any Atmosians, you're my prisoner, got it?"

She hitches me up with her brutal tiger strength, one arm around my waist and the other one firmly wrapping my arm around her shoulders. We limp away and she bristles with fear at every step, waiting for something to pop up out of the shadows. The whole cruiser is a mess, dead bodies- well, even more dead than they were before I mean- litter the halls and I can tell that not all of them were from the impact of the crash or from flying shrapnel. I look at my former student, taking in her bloodstained appearance and her sordid blue uniform, an unfamiliar squadron symbol serving as a belt buckle. As a former tight-assed drill sergeant, _nothing_ gets by these eyes.

Disgust creeps into my words. "You defected," I spit at her, letting her drag me along. As I say it I notice a hollow "thssss" in my words and prod at my gums, where a few of my teeth used to sit before Repton knocked my lights out. Rave only rolls her eyes with the same disrespect I thought I had beaten out of her. "I had such high hopes for you…" I can't help but bitterly complain.

"You're beginning to sound like a whiny old man _._ " A pause. "Sir. So. How's the wife? Still in jail?"

I groan, closing my eyes against her prattle. "I don't need help from an insubordinate creature like…"

Somehow, when I close my eyes I forget what I was going to say. When I open them the sky is red with the morning sun. I'm lying on my back, on a lonely, deserted little Terra a few miles out from Atmosia. My wounds are bandaged, my clothes are clean- non uniform, square, civilian.

And there's a pack of medicine and food for three days in the rusty old Switchblade parked nearby.

I get up, leaning heavily against the Swichblade, and look at the smoldering grey lump of ash and rubble that used to be Atmosia. The ships are all stalled, and no more explosions light up the calm morning air. The battle must be over, I figure-

But who won?

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow (the morning after the battle for Terra Atmosia)**

" _Aerrow. You know I'm not your brother, right?"_

" _Of course you're my brother, stupid. Here, hold this wrench for a second. Man, where's Piper when you need her? You don't happen to know where's the schematics for the-?"_

" _No no, I mean, I'm not your real brother."_

_I stop, trying to pull my frayed temper into a neat little ball inside myself. That's how I handled my temper. Piper's mom taught it to me, when you're angry you want to throw your angry at people. But she taught me how to hold it inside. Like a spring. I could let it out when I wanted, but it would be different, once it had cooled down. It would be powerful._

_That's what she said, anyway. She was always saying things so fancy like that._

" _Blood brother," I explain to him. "You're trying to say I'm not your blood brother, but I'm your real brother, and that's more important. All right?"_

_I wait for him to respond. But he doesn't. His head is turned away from me, and even though I know that this happened around six years ago and that Finn was wiping away a tear and trying hard not to let me notice, this Finn looks straight at me, and his eyes start to bleed._

" _The Star of Cyclonia, Aerrow. It's yours, if you would have it."_

_I drop the wrench, and lean against the Skimmer's skeleton, looking the fake Finn up and down. For some reason, I'm not freaked out at all by the fact that Finn has no eyes. "What's that?" I ask him._

" _Nothing of monetary value."_

" _Ah. Do I gotta go… look for it or something?"_

" _No. Lark will find it for you."_

" _OK. Is it like, important?"_

" _It's precious. It's worthless. It's needy. It's the future. It's nothing. It's a book, that could read from back to front or front to back, you could burn it or you could… write in it. Write over it. The words underneath mean only what it used to be. And if you can read those, you can truly know yourself."_

" _Write what?"_

" _The future._ His _future. Insignificant… or deadly."_

"Aerrow!"

My eyes open and my limbs respond at once to my command, jerking in a motion like I was trying to rip the blankets off of me in bed to go run to Finn's room, in case he had a nightmare or maybe he-

My arm pulls, and the chain attached to my wrist goes taught with a jangle of metal dancing against metal.

Shit.

"Where are we?" I say in a low whisper, as fast as I can. My eyes sweep around the nondescript room, nondescript except for some weirdo machine in the corner. It looks like two chairs, with fastens for the arms and legs and chest and all sorts of wires, and a semi-transparent mirror wedged firmly between the two. Beside that, there's a window, with hastily welded bars canceling out the idea of using it as an escape. The walls are made of off-white plaster that's cracking in some places, and various pipes run from the ceilings, probably for heat or water. Finn doesn't respond at once so I tear my eyes away from the set up and look to him, shocked to see his spiky blond hair matted against his face, like we had been dragged through the rain or something, and one of his cheeks so swollen it puffed up over his left eye.

And he's crying.

"I… I saw you breathing but I didn't believe it," he says, gibbering between the faucet works. He bows his head- or more like just lets his whole body go limp, but since he's chained up so well the only part of him that can move is his head. And he keeps on crying, and then I remember:

I was dead.

"Finn," I say again, because I know our lives depend on him giving me straight answer.

"Where. _Are_. We?"

**OoOoOo**

**Piper (the previous night, during the battle of Atmosia)**

It seems someone else had been on the ship recently. More than half of the soldiers who were left after the crash had been taken care of already, and when I saw the claw marks and a body looking as though its hand had been chewed right off, I figured it must be Rave. But she didn't finish the job- either she was dead or… or she had left the ship again for some reason. So there were enough Talons to keep me and Repton busy, though we tried to mow through them and move towards the bridge as fast as we could, when we felt a succession of explosions I knew it could be only one thing.

" _Aerrow_!" I say, voice sobbing in a desperation almost like longing. He was always getting into danger like this. He was always throwing himself into the middle of things! I ran, knowing that Aerrow was in trouble. Knowing it with a woman's sixth sense, a mother's urge. Repton follows like a ghost behind me, silver claws thick with gore, and says nothing.

We charge towards the area we heard the explosion, Repton ripping through one of the automatic doors when the busted gears caught halfway. The first thing I see is Junko's large body on the floor and my heart breaks in fear but he lumbers to his feet like a living mountain, shaking himself vigorously. Smoke and small particles of light shimmer in the closed space, and then I see Lark sitting nearby, clutching her side with her pale face growing paler by the second. She sways, woozy, but her fierce eyes seek me out and let me know she's far from done.

"Where's Aerrow?" I say, fretting to and fro, torn between Junko and Lark so I pull towards Junko because he is familiar and I hold his head in my hands, standing on tiptoe to reach him. "Where's Finn? Nova? The Dark Ace? What happened?"

"Aerrow _is_ the Dark Ace," Lark feels like pointing out, drawling and obnoxious.

"You know what I mean. Immer."

But she ignores me in favor of someone more interesting. "Hello, Repton," Lark says suddenly, focusing in on the lizard as he enters the room, single yellow eye sweeping about for Nova. He spots Lark and snarls.

"They took 'em…" Junko says, staring off into space, disbelief crippling him of rational thought. "They just… they just, _vanished_."

_Cl-cli-click cl-cli-click-click-click._

"It reeks of Oblivion in this room," the Colonel complains, perhaps not aware that I squeak in fright when I see him. He whips out a scented kerchief to press against his nose.

"Colonel." Lark greets him with a nod, though it seems it was hard to do that and retain her balance. "Looks like you both arrived just in time. Excuse me if I don't stand up to greet you."

"You are bleeding quite profusely, my dear," the Colonel notes. Repton says nothing, merely bristles as he stands uncomfortably close to me. I can only watch this gathering of all my enemies, seeming to have joined my side. "I have a medic on board who would be more than happy to help."

"Send for him at once," she says, sounding a bit like her old, regal self. "And tell me, what's the state of the battle outside?"

"Well, it's going in your favor, assuming you truly don't count yourself a Cyclonian anymore."

That makes her red eyes crackle with energy, like a roaring fire. "On the contrary. I am the only true Cyclonian left," she corrects him stiffly. That's when the medic rushes in. He's wearing the signature lavender of the Colonel's cronies, and the gaudy gold necklace that marks him as being in the Colonel's inner circle. But what really stands out about him as he kneels before Lark and opens up his med bag is that he is a pure-blooded, white-furred Bangledon.

"Be gentle with her, Tora," the Colonel instructs him. "That's none other than Master Cyclonis you are treating."

"Ah, how odd," Tora says, moving Cyclonis's hand so he can see the wound. Her shirt- my shirt, really, since she was still borrowing my clothes- is torn on the side and the gash on her own side bleeds freely. "It would seem dictators bleed the same color as normal mortals." Deftly picking at the shrapnel with his claws, he pulls it out of her side and holds it up to the emergency lights, the only illumination there is in this wrecked flagship. Even the moon is dead tonight. Cyclonis never flinches as he sets aside the inch-long strip of metal and pulls out a pair of tweezers to get at the chunks too small for even his delicate claw tips. He patches her up, slapping gauze and all sorts of anti-inflammatory, stinging medicine to keep infection at bay.

"I only have my field kit," he apologizes to the girl, still on one knee and looking up at her. "That's all I can do for now."

"It will have to be enough. Help me up. Be my legs."

His tail twitches and he shoots an uncertain glance over at the Colonel. The man-thing shrugs and so Tora helps Lark up, supporting her weight on him. "We're to go outside," she tells him. "Find a ship that won't break down. And fly to Cyclonia."

"That's where they are… isn't it?" I ask her, feeling sick to my stomach.

She nods. "He used an Oblivion Crystal to teleport. And Aerrow… just so you know, he might be dead." She says it without emotion, simply slapping me with her truth. And then she curses under her breath, gritting her teeth and glaring at the floor, attempting to continue her stoic act as another wave of pain hits her.

The Colonel skitters over to her, one eyebrow raised. "I didn't know you and the Storm Hawks were… close."

"Things are changing. We have a mutual agreement of nonaggression," I explain because Lark looks on the verge of fainting.

"Lark helps us, we help her," Junko adds. "And what about you? Why'd you show up all of a sudden?"

The Colonel examines his claw tips and clears his throat, nodding at Tora. The bangledon understood it at once and speaks up. "The Colonel was approached by Nova, the previous Cyclonis and Dark Ace, earlier this month, asking for aid in a massive assault against Atmosia. Afterwards, the current Cyclonis Lark came into contact with us, also asking for aid, but in an endeavor to stop Nova and whatever his plans may be. Since Colonel owes Lark a favor, it was a simple matter of finding out when the attack would be and showing up to fight against him."

The Colonel grins ferociously at me. "And there you have it."

So it was only luck that we weren't fighting against Nova and the Colonel at once. I shudder, pressing myself close to Junko's side. "We…" Junko says slowly. "Um… thank you. Both of you," he says, to Lark and the Colonel.

"Painkillers," Lark says, completely ignoring Junko in favor prodding the medic with one hand. "Got any, Sawbones?"

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

**One Month Ago.**

The Storkmobile is right where I left it, three days ago. I shift my pack to rest more comfortably on my shoulders and stare at it, my mouth a firm line. Starling stands behind me in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the frame of the automatic sliders to keep them open, her green eyes burning into my back. I know all this because I can see her through the eyes of the ghosts all around us.

"Before you leave, Stork," she says, pulling a small orange tube out of one of her pockets and tossing it to me. I don't turn around, catching it behind my back before bringing it forward to see what it contained. It was a prescription bottle, with small green pills inside.

"…What's this?" I finally manage to ask the space in front of me, still unable to turn and face her. I still didn't know how I felt about her. What I would do if I looked at her was beyond me. "I'm not sick. And I certainly don't have…" I read what the pills are for. "Any need for this 'clonazepam' stuff."

"Ah, that's not clonazepam. That's just an old bottle I found lying around; I needed something to keep those pills in." She shrugs. "The pills I made myself, in one of my labs. I scanned your body while you were asleep, with a special machine the Terradons invented to look inside a person's body."

I clench the bottle tightly, hand into a fist. "What'd you find in there that I need medicine for?" I ask her, voice soft. And then it struck me, such a simple solution and one that I probably knew all along. I guess I just never had the technology to confirm it, despite all the tinkering in my room, all the monthly checks for bog fever or pig measles…

I turn to face her, eyes wide. "I _am_ sick… aren't I?"

"Yes," she says.

"Oh," I say. "I see." I pause. "With what, exactly? I've felt it, but never…"

"The merlop clings to your system like cholesterol in a fat man's arteries." I snort at the allusion, but she continues. "That's what the drug tests found, what I thought was heroin or something worse was just merlop. It's stunted your growth considerably, interrupted hormonal signals… it's even coating the neurons in your brain. No doubt you and every other merb on Tenebria used merlop like Atmosians used aspirin, to have it at such dangerous levels."

True. But any cut could become infected at any moment, and even miraculous merlop could do nothing for infection or diseases. My eyelid twitches at the thought and I glance away from her to look at the floor, glaring at the dirt.

"So you're playing doctor," I say, and then shake the bottle she gave me, letting the medicine rattle. "What do these pills do?"

"They're formulated to slowly burn away at the merlop in your system. The only problem is, I don't know if that's a good thing. You might be dependent on the chemicals in merlop to survive at this point."

"So then why don't I just leave it be?"

"Because if you do, you'll be dead in five years." She walks over to me, forces my chin up. For some reason, I don't flinch when she touches me and makes me look at her green eyes. "That I can guarantee."

"Or my money back?" I brush her hand away, tired of her touching me.

"You're joking at a time like this?"

"Gallows humor. It's my specialty." My voice is dead-pan. No pun intended.

She shakes her head. "Since merlop is designed to rebuild flesh and reconstruct bone, it's truly a mystery why the merbs of Tenebria shrank instead of turning into huge amorphous monsters. But either way… they're not long lived, are they?"

"No, they're not," I have to admit. The oldest merb I knew, living back in Tenebria, was around forty. He was ancient, and crippled with pain from every step he took. Adulthood started at thirteen, and generally ended before the late twenties.

Her lips turn upwards in a thin, humorless smile. "Do you know what a cancer is, Stork?"

My breathing stops for a moment in time, heart fluttering. "Oh, _shit_ …" I say, burying my face in my hands.

"It's an unregulated growth. And since growth is what merlop is all about…all this excess of filth in your system-"

"I know what cancer is, Starling!" I shout at her, pulling my face free. "Hell, I probably know more about it than most doctors do! That, and a million other calamities that could befall a merb living in _constant_ -" I gasp for air- "- _mortal_ -" I gasp again, feeling faint and tremble-y. " _-peril!_ "

I wheeze at the end, so excited I'd lost track of my breathing patterns and gone completely astray. Starling slaps my back a few times as I start to cough, concern evident on her face. I slap her unwelcome hands away, eyelid twitching once more. "Oh, I'm not dying yet," I snap, "I'm fine. I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"If that's what you want, Stork," she says, stepping back. "The pills are yours to use as you wish. If you run out I could always make more. Just keep in mind that either way, you could very well die."

"So which way is the longest?" I wonder out loud in a dark mutter, rubbing at my sore chest with one hand. Starling doesn't have the answer, not that I expected one anyway. I fly off into the morning sun, headed back for the _Condor_ and familiarity, if not utter safety.

There was simply nowhere else to go.

**OoOoOo**

**During The Battle**

I woke up just in time to see the sun die. So I stare at the fading pinks and golds and violets, on my back and dazed from the force of the impact. Then I feel the cold pressure of the lump that rests in the inner pocket of my trench coat and I remember what I have to do. I get up to my feet, cursing my lack of timing, cursing the fact that Starling and I only came when we heard the all-channels distress call directed from Atmosia.

And now it is night time, the worst time to go doing what I know I have to do. My legs shake until I regain control of them and then I'm walking, one hand resting inside my coat pocket to grip at the death I have in store for Olive.

The crash was… intense. Even the ghosts seem to be shocked, so I make my way through the hallways of the trashed Cyclonian flag ship in utter silence, mind filled with nothing but the task at hand.

**OoOoOo**

**One Month Ago…**

I fly well into the night, despite the danger of doing so. The only thing that stops me is a familiar pinging coming from my dashboard. The scanners on the Storkmobile send up a proximity alert, so I veer off to hide just under the cloud line as a huge Cyclonian cruiser floats over head, bristling with enough cannons to make Snipe proud. I gulp nervously, wondering if they were out on patrol or if they were on their way somewhere. I'd gotten so used to the sky being free of Cyclonians that I'd completely forgotten to keep a weather eye out for them. I look around, hoping to find some outcropping of rock to land and cut the engines, anything to remain unnoticed. A lone flier was dead out here. A lone Storm Hawk was even worse.

And yeah, there are things worse than death.

I find exactly what I'm looking for and watch the vague shape of the behemoth through the hazy yellow clouds, waiting for it to pass. But it stalls just above where I'm sitting, though I don't know if they saw me or if they're waiting for someone else. I grip the wheel tightly, prepared to run in case they started shooting. In the lull, I can't help but mull over what Starling told me. Though I technically was fine right now, in a few years I'd be just like that old merb, cancer eating me alive. I can try and treat it, but as long as the merlop stays in my system the sickness will simply continue to grow inside me.

But then, without merlop I might die even sooner, assuming my body has grown addicted to it, or has even developed around it somehow.

But then, with the merlop I…

It was an endless loop like that, and before I know it I've passed a whole hour waiting for the cruiser to leave the area. I tense in my seat, glaring up at the hated red shape, lit up by only a little sliver of moon and a handful of stars. "Cyclonian cancer," I find myself snarling to myself. This cruiser was like my sickness. I could wait for it to leave- which it won't, I realize by now- or I could cut it out.

Like a cancer.

My hand absently strays to one of the side compartments of my ride, clenching a few of my newest inventions: Stickums. They did what their name implied- namely, they stuck to the surface of objects, be it flesh or metal.

And then they explode.

My engines blaze to life and I rocket from the ground, an unnamable rage honing my reflexes so that when the cannons swivel towards me and blast off their rays of red death I barrel roll to the side, pressing the button for the missile launcher in response. I whiz by, the explosions causing the air to vibrate behind me and shake the controls. Once I get close enough to the engines I slap a stickum right onto the blazing hot surface, not even noticing the sizzling sound that was my hands being burned until a few moments after the fact, when I'm already at the next engine. Still dodging attacks and noticing that the hangar bay doors were opening to unleash whatever Talons were on board, I make my rounds around all the engines before I'm satisfied.

I hold the remote control to the stickums, and press the button to activate them as I fly away. The force of the blast almost knocks me from my ride, hot waves of air pushing me forward and tumbling head over feet along the air currents. Struggling to retain my control over the Storkmobile, I'm suddenly aware of a presence flying next to me. I can't do anything to dodge it, and so, expecting a Talon leering at me imagine my surprise when I see Starling's livid face as close to mine as she can manage without crashing our rides together.

"Are you insane?" she demands, voice shrill.

"Yes, thanks for noticing!" I snap back at her, arms shaking as I finally right the Storkmobile and whirl around to hover in place and see what damage I wrecked. I find that there had been a tense knot in my chest and at the sight of the falling, burning wreckage, it loosens. God, what a stress reliever! I shudder in relief, slumping over the controls of the Storkmobile with my hands over the back of my head.

"Stork?"

I ignore her.

"Stork, are you all right?"

"No." I flinch away from her when she tries to put a soothing hand on my shoulder, jerking the Storkmobile to the side with my aching hands. "Why did you follow me?"

"I was afraid you'd do something stupid," she says, voice bitter. "I see now I was right, though a lot of good it did."

"Something stupid…" I repeat slowly, turning the words around until they came out to what they were supposed to be: "Something suicidal?"

"…Yeah."

"That wasn't a suicide mission," I reassure her with a grim tone, arms still shaking. "That was a preemptive strike." And then I reach inside my bag and pull out one of the small green pills she gave me, swallowing it dry without taking my eyes off the blazing skeleton that lit up this dead night.

That was when something barreled right into me, knocking me from my ride to fall down towards the Wasteland waiting below. I scream, but it's cut short when the person who knocked me over punches me in the gut. I kick out at her as best as I could while falling, the wind pressure making havoc on my movements, and she latches on to my leg, swiping at it with her claws, tail buffeting at my face.

" _You_ \- _little_ -!" I somehow manage to huff out, pulling a wrench from my belt and slamming her across the cheek with it. She lets go of me and goes limp, and while Starling dives down to pick me up on her ride, my attacker falls like a rock down into the Wastelands.

When we pull up I'm struggling against Starling to fall after her, scrabbling like a mad man to get in one last blow even though Olive is far from where my hands could harm her. When I completely lose sight of her I go slack in Starling's arms, splayed across her lap and my head hanging down over the side of her Slip Wing, laughing helplessly as the winds buffet my hanging arms around.

"I can't believe it," I choke, the blood rushing to my head as she flies me back to the waiting Storkmobile. "Olive was on that cruiser- fell out-" the rest is lost in more laughter at my older sister's predicament, my older sister who simply refuses to die.

**OoOoOo**

**During The Battle.**

" _Olivia_ _Dogwood_!"

One foot slams down on the wrecked floor of the flagship, arms outstretched at my sides and my hands empty. Another foot- three-toed- metal-plated- clenching at a fallen pipe to thrust it aside and take another step, my mouth splitting in a silent animal snarl.

" _Olivia Dogwood, it's time to meet your death_!"

I stop in front of the doors to what can only be her rooms, the ones that the schematics had said were always kept dark. And the doors open almost as soon as I had stopped, and there is Olive, ragged and violent. Her shoulders are hunched and her mouth open to catch in air, chest rising visibly with the effort to keep breathing, and her head is lowered so that her solid white eyes glare up only at me and nothing else, hands clenched at her side.

"You don't have to shout," she says. "I'm right here."

She kicks aside a scrap of metal plating in her way and stalks up to me, lifts herself up to her full height and even stands on the tips of her gruesome foot claws and only comes up to my chest.

"Olive," I say to her, soft because I knew she was right there, close enough so that a whisper was enough. "I hope you know that _I_ am your death."

"Just like last time? Back home?" she asks with the hint of a sneering smile. Milky white eyes focus in on mine. They must have turned that color after dying so many times. It startles me that I can't remember what color her eyes used to be, until I think of Piper's amber orbs and I remember. They were somewhere around the same shade, only with more yellow and less orange.

"Yeah. Only this time, you're not getting a second chance at life. You've had far too many."

"I've been waiting for this day, brother. I have a feeling this is it, and I won't accept anything less than the very worst of you."

"OK," I agree.

She slaps me backhanded across the face, and that's what starts it.

**OoOoOo**

**One Month Ago.**

"I'm not going to stop until I find her," I say, pacing back and forth in front of a spire of rock, down in the Wastelands. Starling keeps looking over her shoulder, on constant alert for any of the beasts that live down here, but at this point I could really care less. The spire of rock had a scrap of Olive's clothing, and was soaked in blood. The most likely thing that had happened was that Olive had fallen and impaled herself on it, but the only problem was that _there was no body_.

I circle the rock now, staring at it as though it would give me the answers I need. I know death very well, and no one can lose the amount of blood I see on the floor and live to talk about it. Certainly not while in the Wastelands.

"Something probably just took the body and ate it," is Starling's perfectly reasonable answer, only I don't buy it. I just don't think Olive could fall by any hand other than my own. Self-centered, I know, but it's just how I feel.

"That's logic," I say to her. "Since when have humans ever been moved by mere logic?"

"You're not a human," she reminds me.

"Oh, but I am. To Olive, I am. And to you, I am a merb. Isn't that just fucked _up_?" I stop to pull at my lank, greasy green hair, still shivering every now and then. It might be paranoia, but I think my sickness might be catching up to me already. My hands still hurt, too, and my green skin is turning red and peeling from the burns they had suffered. I need to get those treated soon- and under normal circumstances, I would have been panicking, but now that I have an actual sickness to deal with all those other hypochondriac thoughts that always plagued my mind seem so silly.

"Stork, you should come back to my place," Starling says, probably thinking the same things I am. "You need to rest. You look like you're about to collapse; you've been through a lot of stress."

"More than half of it was caused by you," I remind her, snark in my voice. Perhaps she forgot that she had kept me strapped to a table for almost forty eight hours, 'for my own good'. Then again, I did try to kill her…

"Stork…"

She pulls me away from the rock that should have killed my sister, and I don't resist. Something about her touch is familiar in an old way, like how a smell can sometimes make you _feel_ a memory, even if you can't remember what it was. Starling leads me to my ride and then walks to her own, pulling up into the sky. I follow her.

"Did you see her eyes…?" I murmur to no one. "She's like a bat.. Blind as a bat but she still saw me…"

**OoOoOo**

"Change into these," Starling says when we arrive at her house. I only notice then that my clothes are trashed from my scuffle in the air.

"Aw, man…" I say, looking down at my Storm Hawks uniform. "Can't you just patch these up?"

"Sure. But unless you want to stay naked that entire time-"

"OK, OK." I lift up my hands for peace, and take the Interceptor uniform.

True to her word, Starling patched up my uniform, had it ready the next day in fact. I wore them with relief evident on my face, because Starling said, "What, was the other one uncomfortable?"

"No," I answer, "But this X?" I gesture to the adorning piece of metal that was emblazoned across my chest. "It's made from a piece of the _Condor_. So I can keep her with me wherever I go."

"Boy, you are in love with that ship."

"Yeah," I say unabashedly, stroking the X with love in my caresses. "By the way, when you scanned my body- you haven't seen any tumors yet, have you? I mean, I check for tumors every other weekend, but..."

"No," she reassured me. "No tumors yet."

"Oh." I shift, uncomfortable with what I'm about to say next. "And… do you think I could stay here a little longer?"

Starling's eyebrows rise up.

"Even if you're a danger to me… I still feel I'm a greater danger to my friends. Especially now that I know Olive is out there."

"Right. Even though she fell from halfways up the stratosphere…"

"That, is an exaggeration."

"No one can survive a fall that high."

"She can. I know she can. She's going to keep on coming back and coming back until I find a way to keep her dead."

"And you're the only one that can do it?" she guesses dryly.

"You're damn right I am," I say fiercely, daring her to contradict me again.

She doesn't. Instead, she goes to make a room ready for me in her lonely, empty little house.

**OoOoOo**

**During The Battle.**

I slam against the wall of the ship and my head cracks against the metal, causing stars to erupt all across the black, bleak landscape of the battlefield that I can see through a gaping hole in the ceiling. Olive lands on top of me, clawed feet screeching against the steel plates on my stomach and her hands reach for my throat. I slap them away frantically, turning to the side and pushing off from the wall with all my force, landing with her beneath me and the spikes on my shoulder pushing through the rags she called clothing and into her stomach. The wounds heal almost as soon as they are made, and it's only through massive effort that I pull them free before the wounds heal around the spikes and trap me there, a sitting duck. I hold her face far from mine, trying to keep her snapping jaws from biting off the tip of my nose, and lift up one flexible foot to grasp at her hand as it moves to swipe her claws at me. In response she grips at my legs with both her feet, claw tips wrenching aside the metal plating that covers my knees and then clenching hard down on the exposed flesh.

I yelp, thrusting her aside and scrambling to my feet. She does the same, shaking herself all over like a dog before lunging at me again. I roll to the side, coming up with a pair of poison needles Starling had given me, all a part of the total espionage packet that came with wearing the Interceptor uniform. I throw them at her and Olive jerks to a halt, swiping them aside with one clawed hand before picking up a pipe from the floor and swinging at my head with it. I duck, and then spring forward to head butt her right in the stomach, my teeth ripping at her. Every wound heals just as fast as I make it, and while I'm covered in bleeding scrapes and bruises she's still just as fresh as I had seen her when this fight started.

Starling and I- because Starling and I had indeed seen her one more time after the Interceptor declared her dead and gone- had come to the conclusion that her unnatural rebirth gave her these powers of morphallaxis, probably feeding off the excess of merlop in her system, the same excess I had but could never utilize to my benefit.

" _I get cancer, she gets superpowers. Great," I said as Starling bandaged my wounds and helped me pull my tattered uniform off once more. I had just come back from the_ Condor _, and was so preoccupied by the unwelcome Cyclonis staying in my room I hadn't noticed the Switchblade until it was too late._

_Starling was kneeling, one hand on my lap and looking up at me like a trusting child. "Are you all right?" she asks me, solemn as she applies a bandage to the gouges on my leg. I don't think anyone's ever touched me as much as she has, and strangely enough I didn't mind it as the weeks went by, living together._

_So I told her the truth, because no one had ever gained my trust so fast. "No. I don't think I'll ever be all right."_

_Once more, I couldn't help but remember those milky white eyes._

" _You know those spikes on the male uniform?" she asked me suddenly, pointing at the shoulder plate._

" _Yeah?" I touched them briefly with my fingertips, careful not to make contact with the points. They were razor sharp._

" _On this particular suit, at the very least…" She pauses, face unfathomable to me as she looks down at nothing, green eyes seeing nothing but a memory.._

" _Yeah?" I prompt, to snap her out of her reverie._

" _They're made from the_ Condor _, too," she finishes, and then she touches me again. Like a mother soothing her child._

I grab her throat, try to throttle her, but her small hands punch and slash at my chest, ripping the plates of armor right off of me and opening up red ribbons along my upper torso, kicking and spitting and hissing like a wild animal. One of her fists connects with my cheek and I let go of her once more. She rolls so that she's on top of me now, and forcing my shaking limbs to respond I roll again, pinning her down with all four of my limbs gripping each of hers and we reach a panting, sweat-drenched, silent standstill.

She glares up at me, spits in my face. I don't blink. "We can't stay like this forever," she says at last, almost bitter.

"I don't have to," I say. "I just have to wait until morning."

She stiffens, and with that movement she signs her own death warrant, let me know that all my guesswork was correct- as it usually was. I let go of her and reach inside my torn and tattered trench coat, pulling out her death faster than even her animal instincts can react.

I pull out the Solaris crystal and I shine it right in her face. The sound of her screams fill the empty space between us, and around us, and even inside us. Or at least inside me, because I can feel the vibration of the awful sound shaking me to the very core. "You see this?" I manage to shout above her noise, trembling with the entirety of what I was doing. "This is called _torture_ , Olive! This is what they did to my _father_!" I press closer, thrusting the crystal up to her face.

I almost retch at the memory of my father squirming on the ground like she's doing right now, but I steel myself against her suffering and watch every horrible moment of her skin turning black and sloughing off the bones only to form up again, her regenerative powers working against her now, rebuilding her nerve centers just as fast as they disintegrate against the power of raw sunlight.

When the Solaris crystal runs out of power- _hours later_ \- she's a charred, black mess, the surface of her skin cracked like volcanic earth to reveal the crimson red flesh underneath. Even now she's regenerating, but so much slower than she had before. Either her powers were an act of willpower and the torture weakened her ability to pull together her thoughts long enough to heal at once, or that excess of merlop in her system had been all used up. Either way, she was as good as dead.

I sit back, trembling again, horrified at what I had done to her.

And sickeningly pleased.

I'm tempted to toss the crystal aside, but I know what Piper will do with me if I do, so I tuck it back inside my coat pocket and scoot away from the black, crumbling thing that is my sister. I watch her slowly heal back to her normal self over the remaining hours of the night, listen to the sounds of the battle rage outside with a tired sort of fear in my heart. I think I spent all my real fear fighting Olive.

I look up at the hole in the ceiling, see the first and last star, the morning star. Venus shines brightly but not for long, not if the sun has anything to say about it. The sky is red and pink, staining the clouds so that it seems almost fake. She speaks in the silence, the red light staining her brown-green skin until it's just about the ugliest color I've ever seen on a person, merb or human.

"Yeah," she says, pale eyes seeking me out, chest rising and falling in short little gasps.

"Yeah… what?" I ask her, huddled in a corner farthest from her, peering at her from the upward flaps of my trench coat and from under my shield of lank green hair.

"Yeah it's my fault your dad died. That damn human female- she came by again, years later, looking for you in our jungle. Hibiscus defended her. Said, 'oh, don't kill her, let her wander and see for herself that this is no place for humans.' It was perfect. I used it- used her- used your father's own words to destroy him. And I'd do it again, too." She lets her head fall back, done with her confession. Only not. "You were _mine_ , Snow…fire. No one else… could have you… but me…" her eyes close, a helpless, shivering grin spreading across her face. "…and you know it."

I get up.

Her breathing is laborious as she struggles to finish one last sentence without stopping. "And no one else ever will."

I start to walk away.

"With every fiber of my body…" she says, gasping a little at the smarting pain as the sun begins to shine brighter, this dark red morning. She writhes on the floor, upper body rising while her head tilted back, the crown of it on the floor. She fell back to the ground with a thump, crying, "I swear it. I _curse_ you, Stork Snowfire! No one… will ever have you… but me! No one- will- where- where… are you… going?" she says to my retreating back, voice panicky, perhaps because of my lack of proper response to her overly dramatic proclamations.

"I thought I wanted to watch you die, but I've seen enough death to last me a lifetime." I step forward, face towards at the lightening sky as I walk away.

I don't want to see what happens next.


	27. Your Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The pain reminds us that we're still alive."

**Aerrow**

**The Morning After the Battle For Terra Atmosia.**

The door opens and I tense, waiting for the familiar shock of white hair, but instead it's my old enemy who comes for me. Immer, the former Dark Ace, dumps two trays of meager food and chipped clay cups of water for Finn and me. He shoots me a nasty glare, daring me to say something, and when faced with those red eyes that burn once more with our shared hatred I can't help myself.

"Who's side are you on, anyway?" I demand. "That... thing I saw when I was dead. That _was_ you, wasn't it?"

In response, he slaps me lightly across the face, dodging his fingers safely out of the way before I can chew them off. With a smirk he stalks off, his back straight and his shoulders set like a soldier marching, but the only thing left of his old Talon uniform is the grappling hook on his left arm and the sword across his back. He's wearing civilian clothing, now, which only confirms my idea that we're somewhere near a town or a populated Terra. Definitely not Cyclonia. The skies outside- once the clouds clear enough for me to look out the open window- are closer to green than anything that might look like red.

"Stupid," I manage to mutter. "How are we supposed to eat this crap if we're all tied up?"

Finn chokes out a laugh. "I know, right?" he says to me, some of his spunk returning though his voice is still unsteady with the tears he had just shed for me. "I was just thinking that."

We fall into a sudden blank silence, looking at the floor.

"There has to be a way out of this," he finally whispers to me, and since the swelling in his eye has died down some he looks to the locked door with both of his blue eyes alert but more than a little panicked. "Aerrow..." he says, almost timid. "Aerrow, I don't want them to kill you."

"They won't," I say. "I won't let 'em."

"Promise me," he demands, still so childish.

"I promise. I would never leave you, bro. Even when I was dead I was... there." The memory chills me, but I keep on going. "Maybe it was a merlop hallucination, but..."

"No." Finn says with certainty, shifting as best as he could so that he sits up straight, leaning towards me to enunciate his seriousness. "Whatever you saw, it was real. Something's makin' me say it now, because I _know_ it right now, and I have to tell you _now_ so you don't ever doubt it. Whatever you saw, you saw 'cause you were dead. Anything that felt like a nightmare? That was the merlop. That's what it does. It's a nightmare drug."

"OK." Conviction that what I saw was real reaffirmed, I reach out as far towards him as I can with my shackled hands, and he does the same until our fingertips touch. The light shining on us is striped from the bars welded onto the window frame, and in one of the patches of light I see his blue eyes.

"Then I promise. Even if I die- 'cause I can't control that- I won't ever leave you."

He lets out a long, scared, relieved breath.

**OoOoOo**

**Lark**

"All right everyone, can we _please_ try for some semblance of a line here?" says an exasperated medic, waving his hands over his head to get the attention of the crowd around him. "Burn victims, go to Alicia over there- If something's bleeding, head to- er- one of those medical-types I see lounging around the great tree. People, just try to space yourselves out a bit? I can't see everyone at once! I'm a doctor, not a magician!"

Impromptu medical stations were set up all over the wreckage of Atmosia, those still able to fly having long since taken those in need of serious medical attention to nearby terras, where the hospitals hadn't been leveled by bombs. I nurse my own wound, head pleasantly blank of everything except the incessant buzz of the crowd, the human sounds of dazed, confused people trying to fix the chaos thrust upon them. I suppose since I can walk I should have joined the rescue parties scattered out across the Terra, looking for survivors who might be trapped under the rubble, but save that for when the reinforcements arrived. This isn't my country. Isn't my problem.

My problem right now is how to get at Nova when I'm not even sure if Cyclonia is the right place to begin looking. To leave things be and hope he'll stay underground is unacceptable. He- or Immer- can and most likely will call up another army to retrieve me, or to finish the job they started here. Not Cyclonian Talons, maybe, since what's left of their shells are more ruined than ever, but there are always dead fighters to be harvested in this land soaked in a history of civil wars and bloody skirmishes.

 _If I were you, Nova, what would I do now?_ I wonder, thinking of my late husband. His face looms in my mind, smirking, but no answers are forthcoming besides the obvious. Kill Aerrow again, most likely. Bring him back to life afterwards and control his shell. Now that the Sky Knight is in their custody there is nothing stopping my brothers from initiating Aerrow into the family.

Hours pass. I watch the tired doctors do their job, seeing patient after patient, treating them with a dwindling supply of medicine and equipment and trying to hold out until carrier ships arrived with emergency supplies. I know I should be active- I know there's plenty I could do, even if I didn't feel like helping the Atmosians- but every time I try to stand my head spins and so I fall onto my ass once more, not wanting to have anyone witness my stumbling, drugged walk. Whatever pills that Tora kid gave me, they were _good_. And as a former morphine addict- in the early days, when the ghosts were too much for me to handle- I knew what was what.

"Miss? Are you all right?"

I look up, dazed. The person speaking to me is a man, a man made a silhouette when viewed against the blazing afternoon sun. "Depends," I tell him. "Who's asking?"

A sweating plastic bottle is thrust under my nose by the shadow, and I accept it without thanks or even without checking it for poison. The day is hot. I'm grateful for the water rushing down my throat. "You look a little… Have you been injured?" he changes what he's about to say. Something about his voice is familiar, but I can't place it.

"Too many times to count," I answer the doctor, for that's what he is, I can see when he moves so that his back isn't to the sun and sits down next to me. The one who had been trying to get everyone into a line. He's dark skinned, with thick black hair and bright brown eyes. "What's it to you?"

"Well, you're the only one left in line."

"I was in line?"

"You were relatively close to the line," he says with something that sounds like a defensive tone creeping into his voice. "You look a little shell-shocked."

"Shell-shocked," I repeat in dry disbelief.

"Are you lost? Are you a part of a squadron or did you live here?"

"Lost?" I mull over the first part, completely ignoring the second one because I was neither. "Only in thought." I know how I must look and sound right now, and it bothers me that he looks at me with such pity. The last thing I need is anyone's pity. "And you needn't worry about me, I'm not traumatized, I'm merely so high I could touch the clouds." I show him an extra pill Tora gave me. His eyebrows shoot up and I can't help but grin.

"Well, as a doctor it's my duty to make sure you're all right. Would it offend you if I asked a few questions? Just general thing to make sure you're not suffering from shock?"

"It might," I tell him warningly, my unfocused gaze suddenly sharpening on him with the glare that sent my Talons scurrying. It almost works on him, but he's hardened like a soldier. The brand of war is on him, him with his white coat stained with sweat, dirt and blood. Maybe he was tempered by a different fire, but it was just as scarring.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Terra Atmosia, obviously."

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Of the week or the month?"

"Week."

"Thursday."

"The time?"

"Noon, I'd say."

"Do you know who you are?"

"Nightingale," I lie, because I don't want this man knowing anything about me. And maybe the questions really do have some sort of quality that snaps people out of their trances, whether they be drug-or-trauma-induced, because my dreamy state of half-sleep is waning with the return of the pain in my side. And with this clarity, I suddenly realize where I've seen this doctor before.

"Family name?"

I don't know why I give him Aerrow's name, but I do just that. "Caballe. Cah-BAWL. C-A-B-A-L-L-E. I'm pretty sure it's Galeian or Ispanian in origin, but if I'm part Ispanian I surely don't look like it."

"Actually, you do. Or at least a little like you're from the Euro Quadrant. There's just something different between Atmosians and Europeans." And now, apparently satisfied that I wasn't in shock after the fight, though still looking a little troubled, he says, "Well, wherever your family is, you'd better get to them soon. And stay out of the sun, you could have a heat stroke!"

"Yes. Of course." I try my best to be pleasant. "Doctor…?"

"Aviles," he answers. "I have a…" he looks around him with a sudden sorrow shadowing his light brown eyes. The only thing around us is debris, the ruins of homes and businesses. " _Used_ to have a clinic around here. Guess insurance'll cover it but I don't know what I'll do until then."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Dr. Aviles. You should get on to your own family in the mean time."

He nods, gives me a rueful smile and runs a hand through his hair. "Heh. Guess you're right, Miss Nightingale. Just make sure you get out of the sun, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Take care of yourself, Miss."

"You too," I say, and as he walks away I call out to him. "Dr. Aviles?"

He stops, half turns to me with questions in his eyes. "Yes?"

"What exactly is your relation to Piper of the Storm Hawks?"

Aviles is taken aback, light brown eyes- almost amber, actually- widening in shock. The dark-skinned doctor gets over it quick enough, though. He's a true professional, I can tell, or maybe that rationality is inherent. "Cousin. Mother's side," he says at last. "Do you know her? Is she all right? I haven't heard from her in months."

"She's fine. Just fine."

He leaves soon after that, and leaves me with a lot to think about.

**OoOoOo**

I find Piper not too long after that, staring at the form of her slender back curved over a book, propped up on a hunk of metal that might have been the _Condor_ at one point. Stork frets to and fro, his long green hands running all over the ships great hull, eyes searching it as though he could magically wish it fixed again.

"We're going to need to find another ship in the mean time, Stork," I hear Starling saying. "If what Lark said was true, we need to get to Cyclonia as fast as we can."

"Cyclonia," I speak up, startling them all out of their intimate circle and stepping forward, my eyes on Piper. "Nova might be holed up in Cyclonia, somewhere deep in the ruins of the castle, whatever was left after the looters. He might feel safe there. It's what I'd have done, anyway."

Junko pops his head out from a window, looking down at all of us and holding a map out for Piper to see. "This the one, Piper?" he calls out.

"Yeah," she shouts back, and he tosses it down to her. She unfolds it and I supply a rock for her to hold down one of the edges. She doesn't even acknowledge me, so absorbed in her plans to get to Cyclonia she doesn't realize how close I am. I take advantage of her single-minded devotion to the map, pressing my shoulder against hers as I look down at what she's reading.

She plots out a course, but at one point I stop her and say, "No, no, if you go through there you're certain to be caught by the winds. They're always going against that direction, the drag will most certainly slow you down."

She makes a "huh" sounds and changes her plan according to me- after all, I knew the territory better than she did- but then she realizes how close I am and looks up at me. Or maybe she doesn't know how close we are, because then she wouldn't have turned her face to me. That just made our faces closer than anything else. I can feel the heat of her flush but once there she refuses to move, not wanting to back down. I lean closer, eyes half-closed.

"Aviles," I tell her.

"What?" she says, not expecting that.

"Your mother's maiden name was Aviles? Paloma Aviles."

"Yeah." Guarded. "It's a very common Ispanian name."

"Doctor. Paloma. Aviles." I drag each word out, and she still doesn't look away. "You're her _daughter_?"

She lets loose a tired breath. "Is this about my great-grandfather? Cause I have more important things to think about than the theory of an old man."

"It's true, then?" My eyes widen. I'd given all the Storm Hawks a thorough background check back in the days when I had the means to do so, but idiot that I am, I only ever delved deep into the family of the name they held. Namely, their father's side.

"Oh, God, Lark…"

"You're descended from _Pajaro Aviles_?"

"Look," she says, tapping my shoulder to make me take a few steps back. "He's dead. He's not me. And I'm not him. We're two different people, so why should it matter? I don't care about any stupid "Giant Crystal" theory or cracked ideas that belong in the science fiction section of the library. Just help me out here. We need to get Aerrow and Finn."

"Yes, but... Simply by dropping that name, you could get into any academy in the world. Why on Atmos haven't you taken advantage of that?"

"Hello?"

We all turn around to see Rave standing nearby, still scuffed and dirty from the battle, as we all were. Piper says her name with something that sounds like joy and runs over to her, leaving me with the peculiar sting of jealousy that runs in my selfish blood. Rave is bombarded with Piper's love, are you all right, where have you been, what happened? Junko emerges from the ship, standing a little ways off with Stork and Starling before joining in, to at least help the girl find a place to sit.

"I'm sorry, guys," Rave half-mumbles, and I see what I must have looked like when the good Doctor Aviles came by to me. Rave seems a little lost- not shell-shocked, she was too well-trained for that- but out of it nonetheless. "I came when I saw the ship crash but… but there was this old friend, he needed help- is everyone all right here? Have you guys seen Gogo or the Giants around?"

The question is met with silence. I look at all the Atmosians, unwilling to say what needed to be said, so I speak up. "Aerrow and Finn have been taken by Nova. As for the Giants, I believe they've been taken into custody by the Colonel's men."

Raves looks at me suddenly, as though seeing me for the first time. Her ears fall flat against her head and I smirk. "Don't look so happy to see me," I chide her, waving one finger from side to side. "What your biggest concern should be right now is your own mangy hide. You held up your end of the deal; I'll handle the rest."

Despite the many curious glances Piper and Junko give her, Rave quite dutifully ignores them in favor of staring me down. Either my imagination is getting the better of me or I swear I can see the struggle on her face. She was obviously confused, and more than a little resentful still, but in the end she continues to behave and says, "What should I-?"

"Go into hiding. You are neither needed nor welcome here right now."

"Hey!" Piper says at last, shooting me that challenging look of hers, the one that implies I'm not the big boss anymore. Not that I really needed reminding.

Of all the people, it's Rave who intervenes on my behalf. Then again, I am saving her ass, so it's the least she can do. "Nah," the girl says, "She's right. This place is hot under my feet- I've kinda got the Colonel after my blood. Assuming he even knows I'm still alive."

"Oh, he knows all right," I reassure her, trying for a grim tone but unable to stop it from being sly. Bad habits. "Don't think he forgot about that palace you blew up." I feel something akin to glee when that revelation brings the immediate attention of the Storm Hawks and Starling. Rave looks like she wishes she could kill me, but of course she can't. We've already established that.

"You _blew up_ the Colonel's palace?" Junko exclaims, his eyes going wide and looking at Rave like she sprouted a tail to match those ears of hers. No doubt he's wondering how the kid is even still alive.

Rave's ears fall flat against her head, the sensitive ends twitching. "Only one of them…"

"That was you?" Starling butts in, sidling a little closer and eyeing the girl up and down. "I'd caught wind of a suicide bombing, but…"

"Why the hell did you do _that_?"

Rave flushes, angry and ashamed at the same time. "He…!" she started, but then thinks better of it and stays silent. Smart girl. Don't go around sharing your dirty past with people unless you benefit from it. "We have history," she finishes, face bland.

"Right," I say. "And considering that, you're still here… why?"

Rave pulls her hoverboard from where it's strapped to her back, sullenly kicking on the power switch with one foot. " _They're_ on their way," she says. "That's it, right? No more favors you're gonna squeeze from me?"

Phew. She obviously doesn't get how this was going to work between us from now on. My amused silence speaks for itself, and she gets upset with it.

"Just get the Giants free! I did what you asked!"

Though I want to press upon her the fact that I am _far_ from done with her, Piper is watching so I relent, holding up my hands for false peace and closing my eyes. I tune out Rave's fervent denial of her need to go into hiding and how she wants to stay and help, blah blah blah, and of course Piper and Junko have to deny that they need any help and Rave needs to stay safe, blah blah blah, and to my eternal frustration the fool decides to _stay_. And the Storm Hawks of course, let her.

I really can't stand them sometimes.

But either way, the first errand I had sent Rave on (the moment I caught her flying back from wherever she had run off to during the battle, little coward) was turning around the corner just now. A trickle at first, but then even the Storm Hawks notice that the crowd of people are headed directly for us. Though it should have made me feel better, the sight of all those Atmosians only serves to further enrage me and so I excuse myself to somewhere out of sight before I forget I'm not in any position to order them all imprisoned.

"All yours, Stork," I mutter to the green man, hiding myself inside the wreckage of the _Condor_.

"Uh… what?" he says to no one in particular, his ears standing upwards. The crowd is much larger now, I note from the shade.

"They're here to fix the _Condor,_ " Rave explains, and then adds, "I brought them here."

Psh. Like it was _her_ idea.

"Where should we get started, chief?" says one of the mechanics, a blizzarian, still with the dirt and wear of the previous night's battle on his blue fur but an irrepressible grin so characteristic of his species lighting up his face. Stork looks around wildly, perhaps hoping the blizzarian was speaking to someone else. "I said, where should we get started?"

"Uh… you… me?" Stork asks, shrinking backwards a bit.

Since no one else seems to want to speak up, the Blizzarian appoints himself spokesperson for them. "Well I sure as gum don't see no other genius mechanic-merb round here. You _are_ Stork, ain't ya?"

Stork shoots a furious glare at Rave from over his arm, which was held out protectively across his chest. "What did you tell them?"

Rave shrugs.

"Huh, if we're gonna get any work done we're gonna need to somehow rip those two apart!" says one of the mechanics gathered around the _Condor_ , looking up at how the Cyclonian flag ship was enmeshed with the Storm Hawk's carrier ship.

Forgetting his anger at Rave for a moment, Stork snorted at the mechanic who had spoken. "Well yeah, but we'd need some pretty heavy machinery for that!"

Maybe not noticing Stork's hostile tone, the mechanic takes the comment at face value and says, "Well that's no problem. I'll just take a crew of a few kids here and get all the magnetic pulls you need, Boss."

 _Boss_?

"Uh… we're…" Stork is the most taken aback at this recent turn of events. "Well, the _Condor_ isn't made out of just any sort of scrap metal, we'll need welding tools and-"

"A shit load of alloy steel, right, got'cha," says a blond female mechanic, smaller even than Piper and so impishly cute she looks more like Dress Me Up Barbie than a grease monkey. Not that I'm looking too closely at her, of course. "Fraggle? You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yep, yep, I reckon I am, Storkie."

"…." The blond Stork looks up at him with her eyes narrowed. "What am I thinking, then?"

"Er… Well…" the blizzarian's ears droop a bit, throat bobbing with a nervous chuckle. "No clue, actually. I figured I'd wing it once you started moving, eh."

The noise that the blond Stork makes is somewhere between a growl and a cry of despair. Turning her back on the Blizzarian, she faces the rest of the mechanics. "We're gonna cannibalize the fallen ships out in the battlefield and strip them of spare parts and any scrap metal that needs replacing on the _Condor_. Anyone wanna come with?"

Just then, a figure drops from the sky. The coat tails of her long leather jacket flap up above her for a brief instant to give her the impression of having flown there with nightmarish, immense bat wings before they fall, limp, around her as she straitens up. The mechanics all jump back a few feet, creating a large perimeter of empty space around Stork, Fraggle, and the newcomer. The lanky figure leans over Stork's (the cute, blonde, female Stork's) shoulder to look in her eye, shaking her by one shoulder.

"Cannibalize? Do you _know_ what the fine is for cannibalism in Atmosia?" Wasp demands.

"Uh… no?"

"Well neither do I. That's why I was asking you." Straightening up as if she hadn't- literally- popped out of nowhere, Wasp struts a winding path through the crowd of mechanics to go and frighten someone else. I fight back a smile, and lose.

There's a buzz of wings and someone- some _thing_ \- flies right up to Stork's (the green Stork's) face as the Gargoyles lead off their own expedition team to find metal to repair the gaping holes in the _Condor's_ sides. "Permission to come aboard, Sir Dude?" says the midget- I swear to god, it's a _midget_ with slender dragonfly _wings_.

"Uh-" Stork says.

"Sure!" Junko says. Stork looks at him in a panic, yellow eyes growing wide as electric bulbs. "The engine room is this way."

"Who here specialized in engine repair?" Starling adds, walking forward with her hands on her hips as she examines the crowd. A few hands raise.

"Then uh, I guess you guys had better follow Junko," Stork says, long ears flapping against his cheeks in anxiety. "The big guy," he adds just in case there was any confusion, pointing out Junko for everyone to see.

"How's the navigation system looking?" growls a raptor, yanking back the dragonfly boy before he could follow the group with Junko, ignoring the way he whines. ("Aw, Bobby! I want to see the _Condor's_ engine, too!" "No way, runt. Knowing you, you'll blow the damn thing up.")

"And the crystal converters?"

"And the gimbal rotator?"

"She looks like she's in dire need of a new paint job too, eh."

"A paint job! We are focusing purely on the mechanical and practical aspects of this marvelous example of a ship, sirrah."

"Hey, don't you go 'sirring' me, hoser."

"What about the Time Pulse? Are you all still receiving a signal?"

"And them cannons, theys workin' prop'ly?"

"Heh, I think you mean _cannon_ ," I finally speak up from where I'm reclining, leaning against some scrap metal and contemplating whether or not I should take the last pill Tora gave me. I'm tilting towards _I don't want to be sober right now_ when Piper pulls on my arm, dragging me towards the entrance of the ship. I almost let the pill slip- an unforgivable tragedy- and fumble for the small white capsule, snatching it out of the air before turning my glare on the navigations expert.

"What?" I snap.

She holds out a wrench to me. "You help too."

"Didn't I already help enough? I brought that whole mob of mechanics to you guys. You think Rave got them on her own? What else can I-?" I raise my arms up to wave at the sky in frustration when I'm cut off. Piper pulls something out of her pocket. I stand with my jaw open, eyes transfixed at what I see.

"…Do?" I finally finish in a murmur, my arms slowly falling so that my hands reach for the Shard, my fingers gently prying it loose so that I can hold it, examine it at every angle.

"I'll work on the ship," Piper says, tossing a wrench from hand to hand.

I don't respond.

"You find some sort of way we can put that thing to use."

I still don't respond, only move my head up and down in something that might be called a nod. Piper looks at me with an odd expression on her face before shaking her head and walking away to join Rave's small crew of let's-do-what-we-can-because-we're-not-skilled-enough-to-take-on-the-big-jobs.

I walk off to find The Colonel.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

"This is where you're going to sit, Aerrow."

He motions to the contraption I had first noticed when I awoke in the room. Finn shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye, his eyebrows twitching up the barest of a millimeter. A question. With the hand closest to him, I rest my index, middle, and ring fingers out flat while tucking in my thumb and pinky. _Not yet. Wait for it._

Finn fidgets. _When!_? He mouths, face twisted in an almost comical pantomime of frustration.

I purse my lips, and make the signal to wait again.

Nova continues, not noticing the silent exchange. He turns away from his machine to face us, one hand on either of the armrests of the chairs. "It's a little mix of magic and science," he tells us. "And when it's done, you're going to see the world a whole different way."

Now I can see Finn visibly resisting the urge to spout off an inane, insulting comment. He bites his upper lip, trembling with the effort. Oh god. Shut up, Finn. Shut _Up_. I rap my index and middle finger against the floor to get his attention and he snaps out of it, shuffling guiltily in his chains. Now was not the time for smart comments- not when they held our lives in their hands. But a few questions wouldn't hurt, and I was better suited than Finn to ask them. I could keep my head better.

"What exactly do you want me for, Nova?" I ask him. "What will giving me white hair do for you?"

"Assuage my wounded pride," he answers. Then he starts to walk around his machine, placing one hand on the seat next to the one that would be mine. "Now this, this is where Lark will go," he says, ignoring me now. "Mind, I'm only telling you this so you can be prepared for the shock."

My temper flares, but I don't show it. "Why would Lark do that? Is she on your side after all?" I ask him evenly, and Finn's electric blue eyes dart from him to me, curiosity burning so bright it's a miracle if Nova doesn't see it.

"Lark will do whatever I say whether she's 'on my side' or not," Nova snaps, because evidently Lark is a sore point for him. I make a mental note not to mention her again and rouse his anger. "And you? You're going to do what I say because _if you don't_ -" and his voice grows cold and hard here, like the edge of a knife.

He points directly at Finn.

"-I'm going to kill him."

And that's when Finn snaps. He can't just sit there and let someone threaten him- Finn's fragile ego needs to have a retort ready for situations like this. "You couldn't kill one of us if you tried, freak!" he snarls at Nova, the insult his only defense mechanism. "And you _have_ tried. You hear that? You can't do _shit_ , Nova, cause we're the _Storm Hawks_." He stops, but not because he's done talking. Seeming to swell with the magnitude of having to keep this in for so long- or maybe preparing all he has for his last attack- he finally rouses himself for the last, lingering shout, his lips peeled back in a frightened, sweaty grin.

" _We're fucking invincible_!"

Nova takes that all in in silence, eyebrows raised with the expression of a man feigning interest because it would be impolite to simply ignore the speaker. The Dark Ace- Immer- he would have said something by now. I find myself wishing fervently that it had been Immer instead of Nova here, because we _knew_ Immer. Or at least we feel familiar with him and his ways by now. Nova, however, was another level of insanity altogether, and one I feel is much worse than the raging violence of his younger brother.

"I see," he said after a moment of contemplation. "You're still very young. But!" and with his he holds one finger up, his free hand going behind his back, motioning for us not to interrupt though I'm pretty sure the last thing I want to do right now is speak and say the wrong thing- "You are correct."

Finn's eyebrows bunch together, his mouth partly open and his lips forming to say, " _wha_?" but no sound spills from his throat.

"That's right," Nova says, almost gentle. "You're invincible, Finland. You …can't… die." Nova tilted his head from left to right in time with those last three words, a secret little smile gracing his normally dour face. But in an instant it's all gone, and Nova is shouting at the top of his lungs-

" _ **IMMER!**_ I need you here!"

It takes a little bit, and I squirm in my chains, fear mounting with each passing second and climaxing at the point when the former Dark Ace steps into the room, coolly surveying the scene, probably to see that it had not changed in appearance but the atmosphere had gotten colder.

"Finland here thinks he's immortal," Nova confesses to his brother with obvious amusement. "Silly as this is, I have to agree with the boy. So go ahead…" he maneuvers himself around the dark-haired warrior, lightly pushing him from behind towards my friend. "Show him what it means to be immortal."

Immer seems just as confused as the rest of us, so Nova has to clarify.

"Don't…" Nova stipulates, waving one hand- expansively, it seems like. To cover to entire room and everyone in it, to cover everything in the orders he did not explicitly state. "…Don't _kill_ him."

Understanding flashes in his mind, probably at the same time mine did. I surge towards Nova so fast my muscles scream when the chains around my wrists go taught. "No!" I say, pulling again and again, and when I see Immer slide the sword out from the sheath on his back I know I can't afford to wait any longer. I had wanted to save this for later, but if I didn't move now…

I start to concentrate, going slack all of a sudden and closing my eyes against the sight of Immer leaning over, reaching for Finn- the last thing I saw was his filthy hand full of my brother's blond hair. Agony slices through my left wrist, growing with every second. I'm rigid with pain now, squirming where I sit, hoping against hope that Nova isn't paying attention to me- which, of course, he is, or maybe he senses something off about my reaction, because the next thing I hear is his sharp, commanding voice- "What is he doing?"

I thank my lucky stars that the chains are (" _What is he doing_?") long enough for one hand to meet the other, or else I might never be able to tug the gleaming, wet crystal free from where it was embedded in my wrist. It's an old, well-kept secret of the Interceptors- they practically lived by the motto of _keep an extra dagger up your sleeve_ , but what most people don't know is that in cases like this, where I was almost certainly searched from head to toe before I was locked up and thrown aside, it's good to keep an extra dagger in a place only you can find. Hence, Terradon-inspired research found a way to implant certain things inside your body.

We all have one, only to be used in life-or-death emergencies. Even Radarr.

Slicing through the chains with little effort, I surge up to my feet and run to Nova, swiping at him. He tilts back, hops to the side. I follow him, relentless, and from behind me I hear the Dark Ace's howl of pain and rage. I soon find myself back-to-back with Finn, each of us probably trying to ignore the throbbing in our left wrists. I'm ambidextrous so it's no problem for me to focus everything on one hand, but I don't know if the same applies for Finn.

"You _had_ to open your mouth," I say, not tearing my eyes off of Nova. He stands in front of me, unarmed but still very, very dangerous. As for Immer, my back is turned to him so I have no idea. This is bad- here we are, two Storm Hawks with two daggers in the middle of enemy territory, each of us squaring off against a previous Dark Ace.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it…"

But it's a little too late for apologies, and a little too early to relax, so I say: "'Oopsie Daisy' on three."

I clench my left fist, slick with blood, and I whirl around just as Finn ducks and lunges forward, each of us going for the opposite opponent, filling in each other's spaces so flawlessly it might have been a drill inside the hangar of the _Condor_. I feel his back slide against mine as we whirl, my fist connecting with Immer's chin and Finn swiping at Nova- hopefully.

(Neither of us actually say "three," of course.)

My back is turned to them, and now I face the man I killed two years ago.

**OoOoOo**

__  
**Two Years Ago.**   


__  
**Inside The Cyclonian Stronghold's Inner Sanctum.**   


I hold Piper's hand, silently halting her as we pass by an all-too-familiar doorway. Of course, every doorway here seems familiar, since Cyclonian architecture doesn't allow for much variety- at least not in military establishments, but that's probably true everywhere. Yet I know this door, can almost see it slightly ajar and imagine how it must have been to Finn when he first saw it-

" _Dude, that's it! The Aurora Stone is inside that big thingy!"_

Piper looks up at me, curiosity evident inside her disguised green eyes. Our faces are too well known here, so Piper- perhaps as an ironic bow to Finn- is white as paraffin and Bluster blond, or maybe Rex blond. I'm a tanned brunette with cloudy grey eyes and a rather impressive mustache.

"This door," I say, almost shocking myself with the deep, unusual tone of my fake voice. "I think it leads to… well.. Um… I'm not sure if it was the throne room or the meeting room or what, but this is where… During that first mission…"

Piper, knowing me better than I know myself, needs no further prompting. She shakes her hand free of me and pushes the door open without even pausing to think about what she would do if Cyclonis were inside those doors.

Cyclonis _is_ inside those doors.

The Master doesn't move from her spot, standing still as a statue with her back turned to us. One spider arm of a chillingly familiar machine swerves, holding a plum-purple crystal within its claws. Piper strides forward while I'm frozen in the doorway, and then it's all I can do to follow my first mate and hover behind her. My mind is a complete and total blank, except that if Cyclonis were to attack I would have to fend her off while Piper escapes.

Piper pauses a respectful distance away from Cyclonis.

The Master doesn't speak to us at first, making me think that she was so absorbed in her work she didn't even notice us. In fact, I'm almost sure that's what it is, because when she finally does turn around her face is dazed, her eyes only halfway-there. It's the same look I see in Piper's eyes when I drag her away from an interesting book, or when she's… well… working with crystals.

"Do you have something to report?" she demands of us, narrowed eyes darting from me to Piper and back again. "Where is Castor?"

I guess Castor must have been the dude who generally interrupted her work, if there were need to interrupt it. "Master!" Piper says, sinking and bowing in a perfect, practiced movement. "It's… it's an emergency! Drill Sergeant Faroe sent us as the rest of the troops are all preparing for battle!"

Cyclonis, enshrouded in her form-clinging purple cloak, walks a few steps closer to us with the purple crystal in hand.

Then she takes the bullshit and swallows it whole. " _What_?" she hisses, still sounding more angry than confused. "Who authorized this? Are we under attack? Why aren't the alarms sounding?"

"It's the Storm Hawks!" I blurt out, not as practiced at lying as Piper. It was a little disturbing how easily she could do it, while even my small addition was laden with _erms_ and _uhhs_ and pregnant pauses.

Her eyes swivel over to me. "What about them?"

Thankfully, Piper takes over for me. "They're on their way here, right now," she lies to the Master. "We have eyewitness reports that they're heading another assault against the crystal convoys headed towards Gale… with more than half of Atmos's Sky Knights in tow."

_Bravo, Piper!_

Cyclonis considers this with one hand cupping her chin, head turned down to the floor as she fell into deep thought. Her lips pursed, she then looks up at us with an expression I've seen a thousand times in the mirror. It's me, with my Let's-Do-This solemn Leader Face. I find myself staring at her, so solemn, wearing my face on her pale features.

Then she grins, and says, "Wow."

The doors slam shut behind us.

"You know," Cyclonis says, tossing aside her cloak. "For a moment, I actually almost believed you, Piper."

Her hand swings up, a red mist exploding from the purple crystal in her hand to grab Piper by the throat and yank her up towards the ceiling. Piper's legs scramble in midair, just above my head. Yelling, I charge towards Cyclonis, pulling my blades out and sending a wave of energy towards her. The blue rays swerve around her like colored wind around a mountain, streaming harmlessly past her as if there is a thin, invisible barrier between her and them.

Wet, sick, gagging noises and the pounding echo of my feet against the cold stone floor.

The only thing that makes me realize how utterly silent it is in this room is when that silence is broken by the crashing of the doors behind me being blown open. I see Cyclonis look away from Piper, alarm striking her features, and her concentration on the red mist wavers. Still streaming towards the end of the room is my blue energy wave, and I don't know how, but I reach out and I…

…And I _pull_ it.

My gloved fingers grasp for that far away blast and it hovers momentarily before shooting back, striking Cyclonis from her unprotected rear and sending her forward to lie on the ground. The spell on Piper is broke and she falls as well, but into Junko's arms. Menacing green light spills around them both, casting a shadow over Junko's snarling, twisted visage. He growls at Cyclonis as she picks herself up, holding Piper protectively to his chest.

Finn's crossbow bolt goes flying but lands short- on purpose. When the bolt hits the floor, smoke billows out. I hold my breath as the vapor clouds around us, but judging from the racking coughs I hear not to far from me Cyclonis was not so well-informed of the properties of this particular gas. "Let's move!" I manage to choke out, trying my hardest not to breath as I stumble back towards the doorway.

A blast of red energy knocks me backwards- actually knocks me into Cyclonis. I fall, and then scramble up to my feet, eyes watering from the vapor and lungs violently trying to expel it. When he walks into the room, the mists seem to clear for him, as though he could slice through the gas molecules themselves and carve a path of destruction straight towards me.

Still, the Dark Ace's stolen sword doesn't shine half as bright as his blood red eyes.

I hear Cyclonis choke out her last order before collapsing, having inhaled more of the gas than anyone else.

" _Kill them."_

Shit.

Junko roars, holding Piper in one arm while with he smashes his free hand into the floor. A crack forms from the point of impact, sending a shockwave towards the Dark Ace and causing the floor to crumble under his feet. Bolting and leaping from the chunks of rapidly shattering floor, The Dark Ace heads towards me with uncanny, robotic precision, as effortlessly as if he was running on solid ground. Just as the floor cracks under me and I'm sent plummeting downward, he leaps up and brings his sword crashing down to meet my energy blades. I know it sounds crazy- or maybe not- but even when I was falling down from a height of god knows how high, body-to-body with the man I would murder, all I could think was how I could get everyone else out.

I never gave a thought as to what would happen to me.

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

"The offer is still open, Piper."

I look up with belligerence in my eyes at the girl- at the woman- who held us all in a swamp of miasmic, purple energy. Junko was unconscious, Finn and Aerrow wriggling for freedom. I was the only one who was still, the only one who did not fight physical capture, because as awful as it was I was struggling to avoid being captured in those dark purple eyes, eyes as disturbed as the storm clouds that surrounded the fortress.

Her face, close to mine.

Her face is close enough to mine to…

To spit in it.

I do so.

The last thing I remember was a roar of rage and then everything was black, until I found myself in my bed several hours later, Stork kneeling next to my bed with his head bowed and his whole frame quivering so violently I thought he might break.

" _Please, God. Oh God, please, please don't let this one die too."_

I remember thinking how odd it was that Stork spoke with such conviction in his voice when I was certain he was talking to no one at all.

That is all.

**OoOoOo**

Broken free from my restraints only to be faced with the impossible.

_Kill him._

Surrounded by black, empty walls with the bodies of my friends- possibly dead, possibly unconscious- all scattered across the room. Cyclonis on the floor her leg broken in two places and her pale face almost transparent in the dim light.

_Kill him._

Bloody but in far better shape than me, the Dark Ace stands over me with his sword pressed against my lips like a lover's finger, gently tracing the outline. His voice is ragged and breathless from the fight and from the mad triumph shining in his red eyes. "You always got out by the skin of your teeth," he says, each word sounding as through something inside him had slashed them to pieces before his mouth could emit them. "You always had your little friends to help you, didn't you?"

_Kill him._

Who are you? I want to scream, but there is no one here to scream at.

My mouth is wide open. I'm petrified, unable to move, frozen in a position of obedience. On my hands and knees, looking up at him, the length of his blade reflecting blood red eyes. I can't move. His blade is in my mouth, pressing against the side of it. I can't move. If I stay still, I can think, I can get out of this mess. I can beat him still. I can reach for my energy blades.

But that voice… that voice, it…

__  
**KILL HIM!**   


"And where are your friends now?" he asks me.

It's only the three of us in here.

And the voice is not talking to _them_.

His free hand moves; a red striker crystal slides into the hilt and he jerks his sword to the side. I fall back screaming, my mouth filled with my own blood. He doesn't give me time to recover. He dives in, point first. I, the Sky Knight, faced with my death with all of my life still waiting ahead of me, throw my hands up in one last, sobbing plea, one feeble motion to try and stop what somehow felt like a betrayal.

_Please, Immer, stop!_

(He stops, perhaps as shocked as I am. Who had spoken?

The roar of the voices swirled inside my head, reaching their dizzying crescendo.)

__  
**DO IT NOW, AERROW!**   


I'm not sure who screams first, but I'm ninety percent sure it's me, because I reach out and grab the sizzling hot blade of my father's sword- of Griffin's sword- and I scream in pain as it burns through my gloves- and I scream in horror when I realize why I had never done this before, how it was all fun and games with the Dark Ace- When I heard the voice that belonged to Griffin and how it dislodged the disturbing memories- the shunned idea- the ignored voice- the voice of Immer screaming in rage- how much it was my voice- how much his face looked like my face- how many times he had let me get away- how many days spent obsessing over him- how he had betrayed Griffin-

I wrench the blade free from his grasp and I turn it on him, plunging it deep into his chest, punching through the armor on the first crash, bringing my hands up and then letting the death fall again where it pierced the skin and on the third stroke he was dead.

Aching all over, I drop the blade and fall to the ground as far away as I can manage, helpless tears streaming down my face. Cyclonis drags herself up to him inch by inch over to his body until she is close enough to touch him, her eyes wide with disbelief. She was weak, her arms small and child-like, but she managed to hold up his upper body, presses her face against his chest, and begins to weep.

I don't know for how long.

But when she was done, when she pulled her face free and stared at me, her eyes were dry, her face and voice void of any inflection, any emotion.

"You killed him," she said to me, the blue pigment in her eyes running down her wet cheeks from her dry eyes, eyes that were rapidly shifting into a dark, ruby red. "He's dead."

I am numb, simply wondering when she would snap out of her trance and kill me.

And then it occurs to me: "You were the one who told me to."

She holds in her breath, eyes closing as she turns her head to the floor. Composing herself. When she lets out the air it stirs the thick black hair on her brother's head. "Yes," she says. "You should kill me, too, Aerrow. If you're smart you will kill me now while I still have the courage not to fight it."

I shake my head. And then I shake my head again, faster this time, getting to my feet, stumbling away. "No," I say. "No. I can't."

Her answer is simple.

"Then leave."

She gestures to Piper, to Junko, to Finn.

"And take your friends with you."


	28. The Symphony of Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (And if you would call me your sweetheart, I'd maybe then sing you a song…)
> 
> BUT-THERE'S-SHIT-THAT-I'VE-DONE-WITH-THIS-FUCK-OF-A-GUN YOU WOULD CRY OUT YOUR EYES ALL ALONG.

**Gogo.**

**In the Brig of the Colonel's Flagship.**

"Ey, kitteh kitteh kitteh," I say to the bangledon, wishing I could grip the bars of my prison and press my face between the gaps to leer at him, but considering they're charged with enough voltage of electricity to fry a steak that's probably not a good idea. "Ye're soo lonesome e'er in yon corner, coom pay ole Gogo ae visit, ah'm soo lonesome meself."

"Did you know it takes about as much force to bite off a human's pinky finger as it takes to bite through a baby carrot?" the kitty says back to me in response.

I nod, not because I'd known that but because it was impressive knowledge to have. "Tha's mighty interestin', laddie."

He goes all quiet-like again, and I sit on the floor of my cell and prod at the bandages he had put over my wounds. Nobody had told me why I was here, but I knew that gold collar anywhere. Rave used to wear it with considerable less pride than she had worn the Talon uniform. He had the same spider web scars on his wrists, too, pink fleshy lines where the fur had never grown back. The marks that Rave had tatooed over with her own design. But anyone who treated his prisoners' wounds so diligently was certainly an interesting fellow.

"Gogo, right?"

A new voice. We both turn our heads to the open doorway to see that one girl- the weirdo that the Storm Hawks picked up while Rave was living with them. "Ah'm Gogo," I tell her, pointing my thumb at myself and puffing out my chest. "Yonder sack o' fleas is Tora. If it's aid ye need, Ah'm afraid ye'll be askin' him, not meself, for Ah canna be much of help right noo."

Lark smirked. "Tora, the Colonel has given orders to set Gogo and his squadron free. No charges are to be pressed. And as for Rave, she died in the bombing." Then she frowns, looking past me into the cage. "Where _are_ the other squadron members?"

"Ah et 'em," I tell her.

"They're in separate ships," Tora answers. Just then, his communicator starts to beep. He flips it open and regards the screen with a blank face. The Colonel's voice crawls out of the speakers, repeating everything Lark had just ordered. "Very well then," he says, snapping it shut. "You're free to go."

He unlocks the cage. Just like that.

"Tell the Colonel his debt is paid in full," Lark tells him. And then she turns her attention to me. "You. Gogo. Come with me."

I can feel his eyes burning into my back as I leave, probably just as intensely as I watch this Lark girl. Now I really do wonder what types of friends these Storm Hawks keep…

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

"She's ready for you, Carrier Pilot."

Starling stands in front of me, reaching out to clap one hand on my shoulder. I look down at it and then at her face, wondering, _When did this happen?_ I had a revulsion for everything with a heartbeat and then some. And I also had a fascination with it- particularly the part when they would stop having that miraculous heartbeat.

I wish Aerrow was here.

My voice is dry as sandpaper. "We have no plan, no clue, no idea. We don't even know if they're still alive." And then, a shift. "Starling, I'm _scared_." I'm always scared. That's why I wish Aerrow was here, because he would ignore me and go on ahead anyway. And that's when we get the work done. That's when we jump in and save the day and fly off into the sunset and everything is all right. Right?

_Right?_

"What do we have to go on? A lunatic's hunch. That's what."

Starling shakes her head, sadly agreeing with me, knowing what we're doing is insane. "The _Condor_ , Stork. It's your job- and you know nobody else except you can handle her when you hit the high speed impeller." The faint trace of her old Mesa accent is like a smell in a room that's been empty for years, empty except for the memory. That's all she has, really. She's death. Death for every time she loves anew, and so she has nothing but the memory of old, dusty love. I wonder how she must have sounded when she wasn't trying to suppress it. The love- and the accent.

I didn't really believe in love much until I met the Storm Hawks. Until I met Piper- who reminded me so much of Olive, even if they were so vastly different in other respects there was that shining core of love at the center that would glow only when no one but me was looking.

And then Olive's turned to rot.

"The _Condor_ ," she gently reminds me. "Piper's waiting."

She lets me go but I don't want her to, even if she's dangerous.

" _Why are you so lax with me?" I demanded sharply, slapping her hand away. "Just- why? Stop it. Just stop. You're driving me crazy!"_

_Starling held her hand to her chest as if I had actually wounded her. Like I could hurt anything, I thought (even as an image of Cyclonis slumped on the cave floor flashed through my mind). But then she relaxed, guilt entering her eyes so swiftly I felt my own heart lurch with self-hatred._

" _You're right," she said, turning away. "I'm sorry, Stork. I'm just so selfish I- I can't help it. I do love you… very dearly."_

" _That's fine," I told her, shrugging carelessly. "But could you keep it to yourself?"_

_That hurt her. I saw it before her green eyes flashed in anger._

" _I knew you were paranoid, Merb, but I had no idea you were heartless, too."_

" _What? I said you can keep on loving me but, like…" I search for the words, grimacing as I said them. Not because I was uncomfortable, but because I was seriously annoyed by this point. "Not act on it. I do what I have to in order to live. You should understand that. That's why you never joined the Storm Hawks when Aerrow asks. You're scared not that you'll die but that we'll all die and you'll be all alone again. So maybe you need a little lesson in being heartless, huh?"_

"I'll get my sky ride," Starling says to me, quickly moving away. "You get the _Condor_ ready to fly and I'll be back in a-"

"W-wait! Don't you want to-" I hold out my hand, almost to touch her, and then it falls back to my side and I rub at my arm with my other hand, flushing dark green. Starling stops, looks over her shoulder expectantly at me. "Uh, nothing." Somehow I had gotten into the habit of hugging her every time we parted. Shit. Why is it OK with the one person it should not be OK with? Her eyebrow rises but she thankfully doesn't say anything, instead leaving me to go inside my ship and caress the freshly polished, brand new hardwood handles.

I am back inside my ship, and I am alone.

I feel arms around me from behind, wrapping around my waist and holding me tightly. She came back to hug me. I close my eyes and keep her hands around me only to realize they're entirely the wrong color and then I realize it can't be Starling and I jump, knocking Piper backwards a few steps as I whirl around. "Whoa, whoa!" I tell her, waving my hands frantically. "You need to warn me before you _do_ that, man."

"Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission," she says in response, hands on her hips in a defiant pose. Such a Piper move. I back off, careful to watch her in case she lunges and sneak attacks my face again. I swear if she does I'll run off again. I _swear_ it. Then she softens, breaking eye contact to look towards the floor. She chokes a little, clearing her throat and waving awkwardly in my direction. "It's good to have you back, Stork. Paranoia and all."

I realize we're completely alone for the first time since I ran away. And we were headed into battle without our leader, without our Sky Knight, without our sharpshooter.

Maybe this is the time to say it. Like Starling helped me to say. By helping me remember, helping me control the ghosts. I hadn't thought we'd talk about this right away. We have more important things to talk about- right?

I turn my face aside so I don't have to look at her when I say it- that way, I can pretend it's Olive standing there too. Both of them, to finally put a closure on things. I flip the collar of my trench coat up, scratching at imaginary stains. "Um… yeah… and, um, Piper?"

Unprecedented hope and anxious expectation mingle in her voice. "Yeah…?"

"I wanna tell you that… I do… really do love you."

Piper takes a step back- I could have slapped her for all the intensity of her reaction, eyes widening in disbelief. The silence stretches on and on and I finally know what it must have been like for Starling- for Olive- for Piper when she told me, that day we fought and almost crashed into the mountain. The day we found Cyclonis. The day when everything changed.

"But Stork, I-"

My cheeks flush. I find I don't want to hear what she says and so I interrupt her. "I love you- I've always loved you- Or at least once I started loving you I never stopped-" I look down at the floor, arms around myself like I would not permit her to hold me. "I loved you in the way that- as much as- as much as a brother _should_ love his sister." Glancing up nervously, one fingernail finds its way to my teeth, stammering and mumbling through my confession/apology. "Do you- you know- do you understand?"

She opens her mouth. Closes it, white teeth pulling on the flesh of her lower lip. And I feel like we both want to look away but now we can't, because right now there's no way to know whether I'll stay or I'll go. It depends on her, really. Because I could never love her the way she wants. And I could never stay with that much resentment aimed at me if she couldn't handle my inability to love her. Not even for the _Condor_ \- not now that I can fully understand the ghosts that haunt her, the voices that plagued me.

And I would always have the spikes on my Interceptor uniform ready, if I needed her for nostalgia's sake.

"Stork?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I hug you?"

"Just hug me?"

"Yeah."

I wait, thinking it over. And then I set my shoulders straight, my arms at my side. "…Sure."

Her smile is filled with tears as she wraps her arms around my bony frame. I don't hug her back- keep my arms at my side- keep myself safe from hurting anybody. "I loved you more than I've ever loved anybody," she tells me, getting a handle of her sniffle. "And I acted stupid and…" She pulls free and punches me in the chest. Hard. I wheeze and bend over, rubbing the sore spot. "And you responded by being just the biggest _jerk_ …!" She purses her lips, to fight the trembling and to keep back a smile. "So if you forgive me… I forgive you."

It's a little hard to speak when you're doubled over, but I have to know. "I'm just sick of not being here anymore," I tell her from the unusual vantage point of having to look up at her. "Can't we go back to how it used to be? I felt… safe here, then."

Piper nods. Maybe a little too fast for the safety of her neck. "Stork, I promise you. I swear on the _Condor_ -"

Piper opens her arms expansively, motioning to the metal world around us, glimmering and polished and new.

"-That this will always be your home. You'll always be safe here."

"Safest place on the Atmos, I'd say." We both turn, shocked to see Cyclonis reclined against the doorframe, a small brown puppy cradled in her arms. He wags his tail, looking curiously at me, and I can't help but blink at them in confusion. "We have a change of plans, love birds," she tells us, dumping the puppy on the floor and walking towards us. "Guess who just showed up?"

**OoOoOo**

**Radarr.**

im small and coz of that people dont pay tention to me. i got lost. i got lost but then i found my way back. still. i guess its a good thing to be small when your best friend gets captured and your whole home goes BOOM… right into the ground. coz then they dont look for you. they don't pay tention when you go hide and look at what there doin so i can tell aerrow later, maybe, to help him.

see i was flyn with aerrow to the big ship, to take out that man with the white hair his name I still havent got it yet. moba. whatever. don't matter, hell just wind up butt-kicked like all the others. aerrow clombe on the ship and i watched out for talons, hidin out for when aerrow came back for me. but then the condorhome fell into the big ship…

after the crash (BOOM-….crunch) i member lookin for aerrow. everything was smoky, and there were places i couldn't climb no more. the talons they chased me for a while but even though my home had been blasted there were things i knew that they dint- like the ventilation shafts were really good hidey holes. on my way i found that little doggie that Cyclonis-Who-Is-Now-Called-Lark was keepin around. i dint think it was fair that he got hurt so I pulled him up with me. he kept on lickin me but whatever, like finn says.

and then aerrow… aerrow…. i couldnt find him. i followed his scent to the spot of gone and he wasnt there. so i used a special trick he taught me- how his skimmer was linked to me and linked to him so we could find each other in the middle of a fight and i can fly under him when he falls.

usin that… keeping the doggie safe with me the whole time… i found him.

but there was nothing i could do- he was locked up and i was alone. but i knew the Storm Hawks together can help.

we will always help.

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

"Radarr!" I bend down, scooping him up into my arms. "Oh my god- I thought you were captured with Aerrow! How'd you escape? Is he all right?"

Radarr frantically shakes his head no, grabbing my face with concern in his luminous yellow eyes. He shakes his head no again, shaking me this time.

"Well where is he?" Junko, brought to the bridge by the recent commotion, stands with Gogo and Rave. "Is he in Cyclonia?"

Radarr shakes his head no again, leaping from my arms to the floor and running up to Gogo. He holds up four fingers to us. We pay attention, having long since learned how to communicate with the strange blue creature.

"Four letters or four words?" Starling asks.

Radarr holds up one finger. Four letters, then. He points at Gogo. Then, his ears drooping with sadness, he runs to his room and finds a picture of him and Aerrow, pointing at my beloved Sky Knight and older brother. After one last longing look at the picture, he runs up to Lark…

And stops short, unwilling to come within a certain distance of her. Cautiously taking a few steps back, he nods to her a little nervously and then scatters off throughout the ship, looking for something that would complete his word game. Meanwhile, we were trying to figure out what he had told us.

"Gogo, Aerrow, Lark?" Junko asks, scratching his head.

"Wallop, human, human?"

"Terra Wallop?"

"Friends?"

"If it were friends, why would he point at Lark?" Stork asks bluntly, glancing over at Lark with obvious disapproval. Unfazed, she leers at him with her usual inappropriate amount of interest in people she enjoys to torture.

"It was four _letters_ , people," Rave reminds us.

Starling nods. "So it's probably the-"

"-First letter of every name," Lark finishes, her cool demeanor suddenly gone and her pale face turning even whiter. "Oh my god," she says, voice hushed. "I know where they are. Where _he_ is."

"They're in Terra Gale!" Junko shouts, throwing his arms up so violently he almost incapacitates Rave.

**OoOoOo**

_There was something I didn't consider when I started fighting Nova, and that's the fact that Immer only ever became the Dark Ace through treachery. He never beat Nova in single combat- and while I was always a better fighter than Immer, so was Nova. I never considered that just because Immer had been the previous Dark Ace that didn't mean he had been stronger than the one before him._

_That wasn't the case._

_And I paid dearly for it._

_The strangest part was I didn't see it with my own eyes. I was fighting Immer- and then suddenly it was like I was seeing the world through a million different pairs of eyes. The world swam dangerously as I broke Immer's arm and then I turned around to see what everyone was focusing on. Finn lunged forward with his makeshift dagger- with his left arm, Nova made a swinging block, thrusting aside Finn's arm and rushing in to his wide open defense. With his middle and index finger curved into a hook, he dug them deep into the sensitive front of Finn's throat, in the spot that caves in at the very center of your collarbone._

" _Finn!"_

_Immer, on the ground and in pain, kicked my feet out from under me. I went down, and the next thing I saw was the toe of Nova's boot. Stars exploded and galaxies died. Then he pulled me up to my feet, held me up by the front of my shirt and connected his fist with my ribs. Somehow I managed to pull on the hand holding me, pull Nova off his balance and twist around him to slam my elbow down on the back of his neck. He fell to the floor and I only had enough time to kick him once before Immer tackled me despite his broken arm._

_And that's the last thing I remember before everything was black. Then_

_Then I heard the screaming._

**OoOoOo**

**Omniscient.**

Aerrow snapped into wakefulness, once more shackled to the wall, only this time there weren't any chains. He was upright and pinned several inches off the ground like a butterfly in a glass case, blood still dripping from the cut on his head. Steel clasps on his wrists held him firmly there, allowing no movement whatsoever. His legs were free to dangle, but the strain on his arms was horrendous. That was probably the point. If he stayed like this for much longer they'd be dislocated.

Locating the source of the screaming was easy enough- across the room, Finn was naked, hanging upside down by his ankles by a chain connected to the ceiling. His face was swollen from the blood rushing to his head and his whole body swung loosely from side to side. A bloody Nova inspected the big toe he had just lopped off. He grinned at Aerrow when he saw that the Sky Knight was awake, tossing the toe aside and twirling his bastard sword in one hand.

Then Nova dragged the flaming gold plasma blade across Finn's back. "Better than a bucket of cold water, isn't it?" he asked Aerrow over the noise. "Wide awake? Good."

" _Leave him alone_!" Aerrow screamed.

Nova's lopsided grin filled Aerrow's vision. "Make me," he said, locking his red eyes with Aerrow's green ones, turning away from Finn to fully face his son. He reached behind him for Finn's leg, running his hand down Finn's tense muscles, over his knee towards his inner thigh and then roughly grabbed his genitals. Finn squeaked, whimpering and freezing in midair, eyes trained on Nova's blade. Then he let out a choked gasp, squirming again and saying, " _No! No! No_!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Nova asked, almost looking sympathetic as he glanced over at the sharpshooter. He pinched at Finn's private parts, digging his nails into the sensitive flesh.

"Just kill him already," is Immer's spiteful opinion from a corner of the room, nursing his broken arm.

"You don't get to make decisions, brother."

Then he moved.

The blade swung through the air once, twice on the backslash. The elegant movement went first through Finn's knee, expertly cutting through bone and joint and muscle with only one stroke, and then the blade twisted and on the backslash it slipped through the ankle. With nothing left to hold it up, Finn's leg fell to the floor and after thirty seconds of pointless screams and cries for Aerrow to help he finally fainted from shock and blood loss.

Nova's form was fuzzy through the tears that swamped Aerrow's eyes. Setting his sword aside, he kicked Finn's leg out of his path, stepping through the pool of blood over to where Aerrow was pinned, head bowed and shivering helplessly. He lifted the boy's head up with one hand, his callused thumb rough as he wiped away the tears.

"I want to show you how painful it is to live," he said. "And I know this hurts more than it ever could if I were cutting you up instead." Aerrow lowered his head again, averting his eyes, eyes that were sightless from fear and from disbelief. There was Finn's leg, right there within his vision, but his mind refused to comprehend that if they even managed to escape with their lives, their lives would never be the same.

"Aerrow?" Nova asked, leaning closer when he saw he wasn't getting a reaction out of the boy. "Have you fainted as well? I thought you were made of stronger-"

When he was close enough, Aerrow lunged. He bit deeply wherever his teeth managed to land, lifting his legs up and wrapping them around Nova's waist, pulling the man closer and keeping him there. He gasped and let go when Nova's fist connected with his gut and the man scrambled back, clutching at his face and cursing loudly in the absolute silence of the room. Uncharacteristic for the graceful man, he actually tripped over himself in his haste to get away and fell flat on his bottom in the gradually expanding pool of blood under the unfortunate Finland. For a while there was nothing but the sound of the chains holding Finn up by one leg gently creaking and Nova's muffled voice.

"Damn," Aerrow said with a bloody grin, veins pulsing visibly in his neck and all his muscles taught and coated in a fine layer of shining sweat. "A little longer and I could have taken your whole nose… Dad."

Nova's red eyes swiveled up to meet Aerrow's, one hand still clutching his bleeding nose and cheeks. His voice was muffled when he spoke. "So you know," the former Dark Ace said, voice ragged as he slowly got up to his feet to look down at the bastard prince of Cyclonia, at the last descendant of the original Storm Hawks- his son.

"He's more like you than you realize," Immer agreed, gingerly trying to snap his bone back into place. "I suppose that's why I was never able to defeat him."

"Be quiet, Immer," Nova murmured. And then his face lit up with its usual radiant smile, his hands letting go of his ravaged face to point upwards at the sky in an exaggerated shrug. "Well, what's the difference between learning now and learning later, really?" he asked no one in particular, taking a few steps back towards Finn, retrieving his sword along the way. He slashed through the boy's chains and he fell to the floor with a meaty thump, groaning a little in his semi-conscious state.

"Now, whether I wake him up to have a little more fun with him or let him quietly bleed to death is entirely up to you, my dear child," Nova said, powering up the plasma in his blade once more. The Velocity/Striker hybrid buzzed and crackled, the shape of the sword itself lost in the fuzzy glow.

Aerrow never got to answer.

_Bdeedeep, bdeedeep, bdeedeep._

Nova's eyes flickered over to Immer, who was trying to one-handedly pull out a small device from his pocket while sitting down. "Proximity alert," he muttered. "It would seem our sister has found us."

**OoOoOo**

"We're being hailed," Piper said, heart hammering. She looked out the great front glass of the _Condor_ at the endless stormy skies of Gale, hoping against hope she could somehow figure out exactly where the hail was coming from. "They noticed us already?"

Lark unbuckled herself from one of the seats on the bridge, readying her staff. The sight of an oblivion crystal at full strength sent chills down the spines of all present. It didn't help that she was on their side- everyone knew what that crystal could do. Only Piper knew its weakness. "It's kind of hard to ignore a ship when its high speed impeller is in use. Let me answer it."

The screen flickered to life as Lark walked towards it, head held high and her staff at her side. Immer was on the screen.

"Sister," he greeted her, face impassive.

"Dark Ace," she snapped in response to the dead man, insinuating in those two words just exactly where she thought his loyalties should lie. "Now I'm going to give you one last chance- to die easily. To die in control of yourself, like a real man and not some mindless drone. Give yourself to me and I can free you from Nova's grasp. I have the power. You know I do.

"Make the choice, Immer."

The stony expression on Immer's face broke into something that looked liked… despair. And shame. He turned his face away and the camera jostled until it was apparent that the communicator was being handed over to someone else.

To Nova.

His greeting was notably more enthusiastic than Immer's. "My dear Skylark!" he gushed. "But goodness, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Have you returned to me at last, my love?"

The familial relationship between Immer and Lark was painfully obvious by her perfect replication of his emotionless mask. Nova's own exuberance cooled at the hostility that concentrated in her blazing red eyes. "He'll never be yours," he said in a wickedly low tone. "From birth to death Immer was linked to me and me alone. Your brief stint as Cyclonis means nothing to a black haired drone. So does your love."

Lark slammed her fists against the controls. The entire bridge of the _Condor_ fell into silence as she shouted: "He is not a drone! He's our brother! He loved and hated and sinned with a passion you never noticed, seeing as how you were too busy torturing me to ever care about him!" She pointed to the corner of the screen where Immer sat, nursing his broken arm, eyes firmly trained on the ground.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

All those times- all those times he never fought me full strength because I was his nephew. All of that hate- because I was Nova's son. Hated Nova. Beloved Nova. Oh God, Griffin- where are you when the world needs you most?

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

If we can just figure out where on Gale they are- but no, there's too many caves to hide- too many minor terras abandoned due to storm damage.

Damn you, Nova! Where are you hiding? What are you planning? Why Gale, of all-

…

…Oh my God…

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

" _Starly_ ," I whisper, more with my mind than my mouth. She hears me- somehow- and unbuckles herself from her seat to walk over to me and grip my hand tightly. I look down at her, eyes wide and body trembling, taking no comfort in the coolness of her expression. " _I'm scared_."

**OoOoOo**

**Starling.**

" _Me_ _too_ ," I whisper back.

**OoOoOo**

**Gogo (aboard the**   
__  
**Eldritch Alley**   
  
**).**

"When do we move already?" Rave squirms under my hand on her shoulder, restraining her from taking off too soon.

"We move when we receive tae signal, lassie, and noot ae mooment sooner."

"Um, what's the signal?" Mudkip and Mukden as at the same time.

Wiglaf, maybe picking up on the angry vibes I'm emitting, snarls at them so I don't have to. What a good first mate. "The signal is to SHUT YOUR PIE HOLES AND WAIT FOR THE CAPTAIN TO GIVE THE FREGGEN SIGNAL!"

Silence.

"So there's actually no signal?" Mukden ventures.

I sigh.

"Hey!" Rave says, smiling up at me and hugging me around the waist. "If somebody says "this is madness" do I have permission to kick them into the Wastelands, Gogo?"

"Rave…" I say, putting my palm against my face and sighing.

"Yes?"

"…Goo git yer hoverboard ready."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"An' take ooff those arm warmers!"

"No way!" she says with a disdainful flick of her ears before disappearing into the hangar bay. I grumble under my breath, moving to wheel to give Wiglaf a break.

My first mate stands at my side as I keep her steady, both of us tense as we wait for the communicator to blip. "Do you think this will be a repeat of the last battle for Terra Gale?" he asks me under his breath.

"Ah prae tae any Good'll listen it woon't," I murmur back to him. His ear flick back against his skull and his eyes narrow.

"Them kids- Them Storm Hawks- they're too young for something like that."

"Soo we were, in yonder days," I remind him. "An' if they live tae see anoother soonrise, they'll ne'er be tae same."

**OoOoOo**

**Nova.**

I hold the communicator in both hands, staring down at my sister. I can see the sheen of sweat on her face, the fire of rebellion in her eyes, and I know what she told Immer was true. She does know a way to break the bond between us, and no longer is she bound to my orders.

But no matter.

That will all change when she's dead- or, far less unlikely, if I die again.

I hold out one hand, a tendril of dark, bright energy roiling from me. She might have the Storm Hawks, but I have something far better. I grin, and the light emanating from me pulses with power, illuminating the whole of this filthy existence, all of life's shortcomings personified in the example I had made for Aerrow, to show him the waste of living- the blood- the shit- the dreams- the fear- _everything_.

The room explodes with that angelic light- the light to destroy life. To repopulate the Atmos with perfect, endless beings. Truly, this will mark the end of destiny. No longer will we fall into an Age of Sorrows, for I will bring that light of endless, perfect life into this dead world- make it perfect- make it golden. The prophecy of the children of the storm will not come to pass because they will be _mine_!

Screams rip from my throat, the pulsing light forcing itself from every orifice. From far away I can see myself drop the communicator, and then everything is enveloped in that beautiful, black, pulsing, white, bright, dark, wonderful, wonderful light.

**OoOoOo**

**Omniscient.**

Piper swore. "Shit!" she said, frantically switching the controls to the _Condor_. "We have to hurry! He's trying to bring back everyone who died during the Battle for Terra Gale!"

"Are you kidding me?" Stork yelped, clutching at the steering wheel.

"Look! Look! There he is!" Junko shouted over the noise of the engines revving up for a desperate race against time, pointing at a pillar of strangely dark (yet intensely bright) fire in the distance. "Call Gogo! _We found him_!"

Starling flipped to another frequency- the screen where Nova had stood was filled with static and light. " _Condor_ to the _Eldritch Alley_! Giants, do you-"

"Yeah, we see it!" Wiglaf shouted back. "But that's the least of our problems, kid!"

Lurching from the depths of the Wastelands was the Cyclonian fleet, cannons bristling at the Giants like a nightmarish memory given form. For a brief instant of time, Gogo was a young, newly knighted Wallop with only half the scars he had now, both physical and mental. He saw them, and waited for his commanding officer to give the order to attack- and a shiver rolled down his spine before he remembered where and when he was. He controlled himself.

"GIAAAAAAAANTS!" he roared.

"SIR!" the Giants responded.

"LEAVE NOO MAN STANDIN', D'YE HEAR ME? NOO MAN LEFT STANDIN' OR IT'S MAH BOOT UP YER ARSE!"

"SIR!" they chorused, Rave's small voice just a tiny bit out of synch with the rest. They spilled from the hangar like death on wings, screaming wordlessly as they charged the Armada, not expecting any help and perhaps not needing any. Gogo's chakrams spun through five Talon Switchblades before returning to his outstretched hands. The twin hammers of Mudkip and Mukden swung freely, crashing through bone, meat, and metal alike with the same ferocity.

"Everybody close your eyes!" Rave advised just before she lobbed a bomb from her slingshot at the nearest battle cruiser. The light that emitted from that blast was almost as intense as the noise, and the rush of hot air that sent every sky ride from the _Condor_ to Rave's hoverboard spinning nose over tail.

The crew of the _Condor_ all shouted in fear as the old bird tilted crazily, sending all of its occupants (save Stork) tumbling and rolling around. Stork's neck muscles stood out with the strain of pulling the _Condor_ right side up again, his feet clinging to the floor for dear life. When they were finally flying straight again, Starling managed to clamber over to his side and look out the great front glass at the waiting battle.

"And just how are we supposed to get through THAT?" Stork demanded shrilly of her, nervous laughter already bubbling up in his throat.

"Simple!" Starling answered, slamming one fist down on his shoulder. Battle fever was an old friend of hers, and one that never failed to make an appearance when it looked like all the odds were against her. A chilled, delighted ripple began in her chest and shivered throughout her whole body. "We fight through them tooth and nail! Full speed ahead, Stork!"

"Aerrow and Finn are counting on us, remember?" Junko added.

Thrusting her staff high in the air, Piper gave the command because Aerrow was not there to give it:

"Storm Hawks- _battle_ _stations_!"

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

There was nothing I could do but stay still and hope my arms would hold on long enough for Piper to rescue me- rescue us. Finn was still bleeding like mad- had hadn't moved at all since he'd fainted. From somewhere far away I knew that it was impossible to lose that much blood. People didn't lose that much blood and lived. Did they? The light was making it hard to think. I felt like I was bleeding to death myself, head nodding, eyes swimming with tears- even with my eyelids closed I could see that terrible dark/bright energy pulsing throughout this filthy room we were kept in.

And just when I felt I couldn't handle the pain any longer- when it was impossible to use my training to block out the sensation in my burning arms- there was a crackling of energy different from the one Nova was emitting. For one, it was blood red. Secondly, it sliced through my chains, letting me collapse onto the floor to hold my aching arms close to my body, wondering how close I had come to dislocating them.

Thirdly, it then promptly blasted an energy shot that sent me flying back against the wall, my chest and throat singed from the heat.

A dry, low cackle sends me scrambling, rolling and ducking out of the way of another blast. And then Immer brings his sword down on the spot where I had just been, the contact of the steel against the floor sending even more sparks my way. One handed, he swings at me and I somehow climb to my feet, my mind nothing but a panicked buzz.

The light of the room is disorienting me, messing with my reflexes. And it's so _loud_. The roaring winds fills the space between my ears and when I see the blade slicing through that limitless white power I _scream_. I scream and hold my arms up in a clumsy defense, deflecting the blow from hitting anything major but long red ribbons erupt on my arms, the vivid crimson of fresh blood standing out in the endless, colorless void I find myself in. And then when I see that- (the flash of my enemy's blade as he tries to strike me down while Nova is busy- the red of my own blood-) I realize why I'm so disoriented, why I can't seem to pinpoint whether this light is black or white.

Because it is neither. It has no color. It can't have any color more than a patch of air has color, or the vibrations of Finn's guitar in full blast, or the stinking fear in my voice. If there is such a color for such things, it's beyond the human spectrum of seeing. Somehow, I was seeing with my ears before. Or that part of the brain that controls the ears had shifted to my frontal lobe, or… or whatever part of the brain it is that controls my eyes _. (the back of the head, it's the back of the head_ )

Focusing all my energy on that splash of crimson on the floor- on the buzzing, crackling energy of Immer's blade- I can find the shape of the room again from beyond the endless symphony of lost souls radiating from Nova's body.

With a grunt, I swirl around the next wild strike of Immer's blade and grab at his broken arm, yanking down on it. He screams shrilly- and my mind twitches with the unwelcome sensation of seeing what used to be only the territory of the ears. And he drops his blade. The reverberation of the steel hitting the floor bounces around me as I lunge for it at the same time he does. I kick him away, gripping tightly onto the sword and standing up, holding it high above my head for the final blow.

He lies under me, breathing and sweating like he was actually alive, and I hesitate. What was different about these beings Nova brought back to life and normal humans? If I killed him, would he come back again just like Nova had?

His red eyes widen, still breathing laboriously through his mouth. "Do it," he rasps, not even fear radiating inside those mindless orbs. He was beyond fear, now, though he did seem shocked, delirious. "For the love of God, do it! Through the heart!"

He makes the choice the only way he can: Through me.

I plunge the blade through his chest- perhaps even through the very same spot of the very same wound that had killed him two years ago. There isn't as much blood this time- in fact, he hardly bleeds at all. Instead I can see this shining white- no, _colorless_ \- light from deep inside those cuts, like this flesh is simply a thin layer of paint to cover up what he really is.

I try to saw through his neck, some deep instinct guiding me against him, like he is a vampire out of storybooks, only this one never went away with the sunrise. It's harder than I thought it would be, the vertebrae of his neck putting up so much resistance I begin to think I might have to leave the job half done. But in the end his head falls off completely, and like a bottle of whiskey dropped to the floor all of that demonic energy inside him pours out in a messy puddle at my feet. Then it morphs into something there isn't a metaphor for, rises up to my eye level in a mist-like form.

" _Why?"_

Only one word, but it's far from a simple question- I'm not even sure if my lips moved to ask this heavy question of him.

The answer is just as convoluted as he had been.

And even more heart-breaking.

" _Because I wanted to."_

For a moment I think it congeals again into a pair of blood red eyes but the moment is gone too fast for me to tell. It rockets out the window like a shooting star. Far, far away from this room, and all of the revelations and the life-changing secrets inside it.

**OoOoOo**

_And at the very same moment Immer left us forever, the light shining from Nova's body was cut off as abruptly as a firefly in the night, caught between the hands of a young boy._

**OoOoOo**

I drive the blade through Nova's back. He steps forward, wrenching the weapon out of my hands as he stumbles around to face me, Griffin's blade sticking out of him like some sort of crazy voodoo doll. His eyes regard me with shock- how did I escape? He wants to know. Where did Immer go? How did his powers stop working? Ahh, you silly, silly dead man.

A part of him was inside his brother. That's the way the world worked, whether or not he was willing to accept it. When Immer's life fled this world, he took half of Nova with him.

"Ya like that?" I demand with more than a little bit of battle insanity in my cracking voice. "Well, I got lots more where that came from, asshole!" I tell him, spitting out a wad of blood from my scuffle with Immer. I step into a defensive pose, motioning for him to join the battle again. "Come get some!"

But then-

BOOM!

The world rocks and shakes, cracks forming in the floor and suddenly there is a mass of steel in front of me, directly between me and Nova. I cough and blink through the dust, and when it settles I can see Stork and Starling waving at me through the great front glass of the _Condor_.

**OoOoOo**

**Stork.**

"I knew you could do it, Snowfire!" Starling says to me, slapping me on the back again. I really wish she would stop doing that. I'm probably going to be all bruised when this is done. And right now, I'm really not concerned about how I could "do" it, when "doing" it entailed crashing the _Condor_ for the second time in less than two days.

"Look!" Piper says, pressing her face against the glass. "It's Aerrow! He's all right! _Aerrow_!" she shouts to him now, banging her fist against the window. "Aerrow! _Where's Finn!_?"

I open the gunnery hatch and we all pile out, Junko shaking Aerrow by the shoulder to try and snap him out of it. Aerrow's trembling, stock-still in a martial arts pose. "Hey!" he says again, grabbing Aerrow's face and holding it so that the boy was forced to look him in the eyes. "Where's Finn?" he asks. "Let's get him and get out of here!"

"He's…" Aerrow says, raising one wavering finger to the solid mass of the _Condor_ in front of us. "He's… on the _other_ side… With _Nova_!"

And then we hear Finn screaming. A shudder rolls through my whole body and I cling to Starling in order to keep me upright. The screams starts up again and Junko runs forward, ripping through the wall on the other side of the Condor with Piper and Aerrow and Lark all in tow, all of them running towards the battle while I can only sit flat on my ass, having a god damn panic attack at the worst possible moment. It rocks me back in time, when I was seven years old, standing on that _natural bridge that led to the field of merlop in Terra Tenebria. My father is lying on the ground with his yellow eyes wide, reaching out to me with the spear stuck in his back pinning him to the ground. The blood spreads out across the stone bridge and falls into the river below._

" _Stork!" he wheezes. "Stork! Run-" and then whatever he was about to say next is lost in a sudden bloody scream as a faceless merb drives another spear through his form. A scream that would stay locked in the echoes of my subconscious for years to come. "Stork!"_

"Stork!"

Starling shakes me.

"Snap out of it!"

"Go," I manage to murmur out. She doesn't listen, just stands there over me, trying to get me back on my feet. I shake her off, roughly, saying again, "Go… go help them, I'll… I'll get the _Condor_ ready for a speedy escape, all right?"

Starling opens her mouth to respond, but just then a black form enveloped in golden flames goes flying by us with a frightened scream, hurled from the battle, rolling and skidding on the ground before slamming against the wall of the room of this abandoned house Nova had been holing up in. The person curses and shouts frantically and I realize it's Lark, rolling around to try and extinguish the flames. Starling drags me to my feet, yanking again and again at the back of my coat and shouting, "Quick, Stork, take it off!" I manage to wrestle myself free from the coat and Starling runs to Lark, flapping at the golden flames until there's nothing left but smoke. Lark stumbles to her feet, gripping at Starling for support as smoke tendrils rise up from her singed hair.

"Let me go!" she growls at the Interceptor, eyes trained on the flashing energy lights of the battle. "Let me- let me go!"

Yeah, who cares if she dies?

I bound over to the controls of the _Condor_ , fighting back the memories of my father with the apparition of my mother- real or fake, at least she's familiar- who always appeared when I was at the wheels. "OK, to get us out of here I need to…" we reach for the same lever at the same time. My hand passes through hers. "Right. Perfect." To my right, Starling finally lets go of Lark, chasing after her and passing past me to my left, where Piper, Aerrow, and Nova formed a rapidly shifting triangle of weapons.

Aerrow duels with a bloody sword- Immer's sword- and Piper lunges and assaults with her staff, scoring points more often than anyone else. Not that Nova was really trying to avoid any attacks- his whole body is covered in open, bleeding wounds. But strangely enough, he doesn't really…. _Bleed_. Something strange is going on underneath his skin, and honestly I didn't really care what it was.

Shifting to reverse, I pull out of the building with a screech of metal bending. Junko hops on board just in time, holding Finn in his arms and running over to me. We hover above that house where Finn and Aerrow had been kept.

"The- the- the merlop- where?" he gasps, the whole front of his shirt soaked in Finn's blood.

_Holy..._

"What the hell happened to him?" I ask, standing rigid in shock.

Junko screams so loud my hair and ears go flying back at the sudden wind. " _The merlop, Stork_!"

"Right! Right! Check the medical kit!" I jerk my head repeatedly at the first aid kit hanging from the wall where I had stored the extra merlop. "There's some syringes there too- the one marked with a blue dot, OK? Use it! He's lost way too much blood but that should keep him going a little longer!"

Junko rips the case from the wall and empties it out, sifting through the mess with shaking hands until he finds that miracle plant- the one that could have saved my father. _Stork, you really have to stop thinking like that._ Right. Right. Junko's labored, frightened breathing turns to background noise as I twist the _Condor_ in midair to see if I can't spot where my team mates are. From beneath me I finally catch a glimpse of shocking purple energy. It's four against one now…

And Nova still isn't stopping.

Piper leaps over him, spinning around and catching him square in the ribs with a flying roundhouse kick. Nothing. Starling ducks and weaves, blasting a wave of purple energy. It hits him in the gut and he stumbles back a few paces. Aerrow steps in in Starling's wake, slashing horizontally with his blade and opening up Nova's belly. No rope-like intestines spill. No blood splatters the walls. Instead, that same bright light bursts forward from between the cracks in his skin- not nearly as bright as it had been a few moments ago but there was no mistaking the way my brain feels like it's twitching just by looking at it.

Nova canters forward with that mad grin on his face, movements nothing but a blur with that enhanced Striker/Velocity he's equipped with. A thick, viscous black energy wraps around him, slowing his movements some, and I see Lark standing not too far away from the four of them, her arm and staff outstretched and pointing at Nova, her cheeks flushes with exertion and knees wobbling.

What are we gonna do against something like this?

It suddenly occurs to me that we were using the last of our merlop on Finn.

If something happened now…

With a delighted laugh, Nova runs forward, purposefully impaling himself upon Aerrow's blade in order to close the distance between them. He lifts his bastard sword high- and Starling tackles into him, dislodging him from the sword and sending them both to the floor. In spite of myself I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen and I steer a little closer, desperately trying to see if she is all right. From behind me, I hear Junko again…

"Oh God… Oh God, Stork, he's not breathing!"

"Wha…?" my head snaps to the side and I look at the pair, Junko cradling Finn in his arms. The blond was indeed as still as a corpse. The point where his leg had been cut off was perfectly healed, nothing left but a smooth scar as if he had actually been born without the appendage. Everything below the knee is completely gone.

"Crapola."

I switch the _Condor_ onto autopilot and run over, grasping for the medical kit again and pulling out the defibrillators. They weren't charged for very long- we'd have maybe three tries before… kaput. I check Finn for a pulse- nothing. "Charging to 350," I monotone, pressing the pads against his chest. The machine whines for an endless second before intensifying and snapping out a full dosage of crystal-powered life into Finn's chest. He gasps and his pulse rockets into a normal rhythm again after only one shot. Thank God.

"He needs blood," I murmur. "Junko- take him on your skimmer and fly him to-"

"Hey you guys, we seriously need any spare medical shit you got on bo- Oh my God…! The fuck happened to him?"

I jump, frightened at the new voice, at the shocking white hair- but it's just that bangledon girl, Rave. "Nice of you to show up," I sneer. "Where are your big friends?" I point down to my own friends fighting for their lives. " _My_ friends could really use your help right now!"

Rave looks down at Finn, flinching when her eyes see the damage before taking off the blue jacket of her uniform and draping it over his privates. "Then why don't _you_ help them?" she shoots back, kneeling next to him with his upper body in her arms, tears running freely down her face. "Finn isn't the only one wounded, you know!"

**OoOoOo**

**Gogo.**

"Where's Rave goone wi'oot sayin' soo much as tae where she's headed?" I demand of Mukden, roughly tying the knot on Mudkip's tourniquet. She whimpers once and I pull on her ear. "Don't ye woory nao, mah sweet lass. Ah'll have ye fixed afore ye can say-" I snap through the excess cord with my teeth. "…Er… Afore ye can say…"

Wiglaf skids into the med room, belly fat jiggling as he wheezed, "More Cyclonians!"

Mukden groans, rubbing his face into his palms. "I knew it was too good to be true that they suddenly stopped when that weird light stopped!"

"Then stoop blubberin and git to yer sky ride!" I pat Mudkip's head once before getting to my feet. When I walk, one of my knees wobbles a bit but otherwise I'm fine. Not tired. Not tired at all. I reach to my belt and pull out my communicator. "Rave! Return tae th'ship! Ah need ye!"

A sudden blast rocks the _Alley_ to the side. I slam against the wall, my head cracking against the steel. Once my head clears I grin. "Damn Cycloonians're already gettin' started!" I say, stumbling over to the hangar bay and throwing my leg over the seat of my ride. Revving the engine, I soar into the sky with my chakram held so tightly in my hand my knuckles turn white and the scars stand out livid on my flesh.

My communicator buzzes. Thinking it might be Rave, I flick it on. "Yeah, wit d'ye-?"

" _Rebel Ducks to Gogo Giants, eets lookeeng like you need a leettle 'elp out zere." I can picture the woman sitting in the captain's chair, lazily reclining with her feet upon the control panel and the communicator held loosely in one hand. And yet despite my general dislike of lily-handed Galeans, relief explodes in my chest. We weren't alone any more._

" _Aye, that's the sad truth, lassie!"_

" _Zen we will take care of zose beeg buggers for you, if you want." From not so far away, I hear the squeal of an energy cannon powering up. "Now I suggest you duck, lapin." I glance behind us at the approaching Rebel Ducks battleship and in front of us at the three looming Cyclonian ships. I signal to Mukden and we fall down as a spiral of green energy blasts singe the hair off the top of my head simply from the proximity. The blast doesn't stop with the target, though- it practically bounces from ship to ship, the toxic green afterburn leaving a wild trace through the sky. And as the missile begins to slow down, it seems to collapse upon itself in a raging vortex of wind that takes all three of the ships and smashes them together._

"Whoa!" Mukden says over the noise of the raging winds. "What on earth is powering that thing?"

The Gale Cruiser pulls up alongside us, spilling out its contents of the Rebel Duck's sky knight and his squadron. _"A wind stone crafted by my family,"_ is the Galean woman's smug response. _"My grandpapa, 'e iz zomzing else, no?"_

Wind stone? But the only crystal expert on Gale right now is… "Yer grand- yer _grandpa_ \- Jes who'm Ah speakin' to?" I say, tapping my communicator with suspicion.

" _You 'ave ze pleasure of speaking with none ozer zan ze infamous Flying Dove Scorpion, mon cherie._ "

"Er… Ne'er heard o' ye, darlin."

A vicious little laugh rips through the communicator's speaker.

" _Zat ees of no importance. Eizer way, I'm zeenking we weel 'ave lots of fun 'ere zis evening, you and I. 'ow much are you weeling to wager zat Les Canards De Rebelle are able to eliminate more Cylonians zan your Giants?"_

"How much am Ah willin' tae-" suddenly who I'm speaking to doesn't matter so much. I snort, almost emitting steam from my anger at the insult. "Mah bloody left arm is how bloody well much!"

" _But_ _not ze right one, surely_?"

"The right one, too!"

" _Monsieur, eet ees not polite to tell untruths to young, defenseless little girls.._."

**OoOoOo**

**Omniscient.**

" _Certainly we feel that there's a process to it all- we are born- we grow up- we grow old- we die- but that's not always how it works. That's not the way it has to be."_

"Load them up onto the hummer," Stork directs Rave, Junko helping him heft up Mudkip to sit just behind Rave, arms around her waist. Finn is still unconscious and mumbling in his sleep, so they have to tie him to the seat. "Now go- here are the directions to the nearest populated Terra." The Merb takes a map from Junko's hands and presses it firmly into Rave's. As she grabs it, he clutches onto her wrists, pulling her a little bit forward and lifting her chin up with his free hand so that she receives the full force of his strangely emotionless, blank yellow eyes.

"And if anything happens to him, Bangledon…" he say, the hiss of threat in his voice almost gentle. "I'm holding you personally responsible."

" _Nothing in this world has to be. There are simply things that are… and things that could be."_

Nova somersaults out of the gaping hole in the side of the house, landing in a three point stance four stories below him on the fields of one of Gale's many abandoned terras. He grins up at them and Aerrow- despite the shriek of fright and warning that Piper gives him- takes a running leap as well, legs still working in midair and his borrowed blade held high above his head. When the two swords meet, the clashing energy waves of yellow gold and blood red mold in a way never seen in nature, the sparks and plasma waves radiating around them in an unholy aura of death. Aerrow breaks the _corps-a-corps_ first, Nova following up with a spinning kick and a swing of his blade. Aerrow deflects it, making the transition of double-sword fighting to single-blade fighting without a hitch. He is the Dark Ace after all- and a product of some of the greatest fighters the Atmos had ever known.

Piper and Starling reach the fray soon and it's the same old battle all over again. They clamber down the side of the house and Lark floats down, the purple miasma of her oblivion crystal swarming out from her as her feet touch the ground to envelop Nova again. This time, she puts all her strength behind it, and while Piper and Starling are still running to help Aerrow she has completely incapacitated her brother. He stands stock still, arms rigid at his side, the only movement being his red eyes frantically swiveling around for help, or an escape route, but there are none. Of course there are none.

Aerrow swings his uncle's sword- _both_ uncle's swords as fate would so happen to have it- so madly it resembles nothing more than a strike with a baseball bat. But that's the killer, the blow without finesse, the strike of survival- to slay or be slain. Maybe he's finally getting the hang of this whole mutilation thing, because he lops off Nova's head with only one blow. The horrible part of it is that Nova is still standing when he dies, but then his hands go limp and his blade falls to the floor and with a heavier, meatier thump he falls down with it.

" _And everyone I love- everyone I get close to- they all die._

" _Without warning._

" _Without meaning."_

The ground rocks when a skimmer and a slip wing all fall from the sky to land near them. They look up to see the _Condor_ flying just a little ways up, Junko waving at them from the open hangar door. Then another shape comes flying out, but this one propelled by motors. Stork screeches to a halt on the grass next to them and lopes outward to embrace Starling so tightly they almost topple to the ground. Bent over double and leaning on her staff for support, Piper can only muster enough strength to raise one eyebrow. Teasing/Interrogating Stork would have to wait for later.

"Are you all right?" the Interceptor asks him.

"Am I all right?" he asks back, voice high with incredulity. "You're asking me? Look at you!"

She does, looks down at herself, at the scrapes and bruises and the shameful tatters of her once proud uniform. "Right," she agrees, understanding the ludicrous nature of her question. "But still. Are you?"

Stork sighs and nods briefly, lowering his head and closing his eyes before glancing over at Piper, Lark, and Aerrow. They had formed a loose semi-circle around Nova's decapitated body. Helping Starling along, Stork approaches them and also looks down upon the gruesome remains of the greatest enemy they had ever faced.

"So all that prophecy was bullshit?" Piper asks Lark, somehow managing to tear her eyes away from the body. Some part of her was still scared he would get up again.

Lark can only shrug, also not trusting her eyes.

"Wait…" Stork says, his head jerking upwards to frantically search the skies. "If he's dead, why are all those cruisers still-?"

In answer to his question, all of the enemy cruisers drop from the sky like flies. From each one, a small segment of shining white light flies out like a shooting star as they return to what they are. Shining red paint cracks- repaired ship parts slide off and crash into the Wastelands- the reanimated bodies of their pilots and talons rotted to fleshy, bloody pulps- and from each one a shining segment of Nova's power is lost. By now the daytime sky looks like it is night, the clouds of Gale covering the sun and the shooting stars of energy crisscrossing each other in a magnificent display of fireworks.

" _So if anyone here is cursed, Stork-"_

"Let's burn the body," Lark advises, voice strangely loud. And then they all realize how deathly quiet it had become, for the destruction of the Cyclonian armada is a silent one. "Or send it someplace… far away." She wiggles the oblivion crystal from its slot on her staff. It comes free with an audible pop and she points it at the body for a few moments before shaking her head and shoving the crystal into Aerrow's hands.

Her voice shakes. "I- I can't," she says. Despite the panic in her voice, her face is smooth. Calculating, almost. "There was a time- a brief time when- when he and I- we didn't always hate each other."

Piper understands. She takes the crystal from Aerrow's hands, pointing it at Nova.

But then-

"L-look out!"

Stork grabs her by the back of her shirt, dragging her back from the blast. Starling had grabbed Aerrow, and Aerrow in turn had grabbed Lark. The five of them go tumbling backwards and when they are on their backs, looking up into the dark sky they can see what it is that Stork and Starling had noticed before anyone else.

The dancing lights from all the ships had congealed into one pulsing center. It rises high into the sky, a pillar of light that then falls like lightning onto the corpse of Nova.

The laughter that he emits is more like a scream-

-And the symphony of lost souls plays on through the seven foot tall pillar of flaming white sound that is Nova, the harbinger. Some of his original shape can still be seen if you squint. And the magnitude of that light is so much that you have to squint. A gross, misshapen hand reaches for his sword. Shouting, Aerrow gets to his feet and levels his own sword at the shining apparition. He charges and Nova smacks him aside with the flat of his blade, laughing.

Nova sings, tongues of flames flickering from what served as his mouth. He grows taller still, reaching eight feet. He steps forward again, singeing the grass beneath his feet, and Starling sends a wave of crystal energy at him from her nun chucks. The blast hits him, the purple and white energy fighting tooth and claw for supremacy until the purple seems to be overwhelmed. It sinks inside his body, and what small bit of his upper half that could have been called a face grinned. The grin split that shining bulb atop his shoulders, a black line between the white, a thing black mouth with an obnoxious smile. The thing ripples with laughter and he doubles over before wrenching himself upright again, sending the purple blast right back at the Interceptor. Piper blasts him with the oblivion stone twice in a panic with absolutely no effect on the creature; Lark grabs her by her arms and they both lunge to the side, ducking under the wild swipe of the man's sword. He steps forward again, his destination clear now:

Stork. The (arguably) least dangerous of the group. The only non-fighter. And a merb who had escaped death by Nova's hands more than once. Oh yeah. Time for a little personal vengeance. And there's no time like the present, after all. Nevermind the fact that he should take care of Aerrow- something about that salamander just begged to die.

Another ripple of laughter as he raises his blade high.

"Stork!" He lets the blade fall, but Starling knocks Stork to the side. The blade skims across her back, ripping through leather and metal armor and she screams in pain. Piper lunges with her staff, newly equipped with Lark's oblivion stone. The power of that crystal is so concentrated that while she aimed for his wrist to disarm him, the end of the staff cuts completely through the appendage. The sword falls to the grass and Stork tries to drag Starling to the Storkmobile.

Aerrow lops through Nova's other arm- only to stare in horror as it reforms itself. A shockwave of energy blasts from Nova's core and knocks him and Lark off their feet, reopening a cut on Lark's forehead that bleeds freely into her left eye, blinding her so badly she feels she must have somehow damaged her sight beyond repair. She is defenseless- her staff has no crystal equipped, but she must have _something..._ and she does. A small stroke of power reminds her of what she has hidden in the secret pockets that line the insides of her sleeve- the pockets where she does her sleight-of-hand tricks, pulling out something when you least expect.

All the while a tendril of that energy shifts downwards. Nova picks up the fallen sword.

" _So if anyone here is cursed, Stork…"_

Nova pulls his arm back to throw the sword like a javelin. Piper, seeing what he's trying to do, leaps up, as high as she can possibly jump, trying to grab the ghost's arm to try and stop him. Her hands wrap around his wrist- and she screams in horror at the agonizing pain it caused. She falls to writhe on the bloody field, watching the singed muscles on her hands twitch and sizzle and turn black.

Stork hefts Starling up, her arms over his shoulders, her chest pressed against his. He has his back to the Nova, is facing the Storkmobile, trying to shove Starling into the sky ride. Starling, though her eyes were glazed with pain, is able to see the death before it strikes.

And the sword flies.

Starling finds that the Sky Fu move comes to her as easily as it ever did- a reversal. She breaks free of Stork's grab, twirling him around so that their positions were reversed.

"… _It's… me."_

Just a little off target. The meat of her body proved enough to slow down the projectile so that when it did hit Stork, it was only the very tip that pricked his skin, causing a single bead of red blood to well up and trickle down his body onto the grass.

His agonized cry of fury and sorrow echoes in the raging storms of Terra Gale.

The yellow velocity/striker buzzes and crackles, shedding light on Starling's vacant, dead eyes. Stork drops the body in horror, standing over her with his hands reaching out, not daring to actually touch her but unable to believe that he couldn't somehow grab her and pull her out of the way of the sword's path. That it wasn't too late. That she hadn't died on impact. That she hadn't given her life to save his, to finally break that curse-

-Or to perhaps see that Olive's curse remained fulfilled.

His lips tremble, the noises he makes sputtering and incoherent as he sinks to his knees in the soft green grass. He pulls the sword from her somehow, unaware of Aerrow and Nova still fighting, or Piper curled up with her broken hands held tight against her chest, or Lark's gaze of hatred aimed at Nova as she grips the only weapon she had left. And he looks at the blade with revulsion, tossing it aside and gathering the broken shell of Starling into his arms, rocking back and forth and sobbing:

"… _me…me… it was supposed to be me… I..."_

And then all the words he could never say are lost in his wild, animal screaming. He picks up the blade- the only weapon on hand- and charges at Nova. He even butts aside Aerrow, slamming into the teen with his shoulder and knocking him to the side. Aerrow's sword spins, flies, lodges into the ground far away. Aerrow is torn in that moment, makes an attempt to run after it but turns just in time to watch in horror at what happens next.

Wildly, Stork swings at the laughing man-creature.

" _It was supposed to be me! It was supposed to be me! It-"_ he swings; Nova deflects the blow. " _Was supposed_ -" Stork misses, flailing the sword, wildly going with the momentum of his crazed attack. " _To be_ -!"

He tries for a backswing. Nova catches the blade with his bare hand, yanking it from Stork's grip, reversing it, and then striking the Merb right through his chest. Stork gasps, fingers twitching around the blade protruding from his chest. He takes a gulps of air, choking, still staring down at the gaping hole inside him with shock in his eyes.

The light starts to dim.

"It's supposed to be you," Nova drawls, his voice clear as a bell in the sweaty, frightened silence. "Right. I get it. You can shut up now."

It all happens in the blink of an eye.

He simmers down from the eight foot monster he had been, the white light cooling and congealing into the devilishly handsome prince of Cyclonia, fresh-faced and without a scratch on him. He twists the blade inside Stork and the merb hocks up a wad of blood. It splatters on Nova's chest, over the emblem of Cyclonia on his breastplate, spills onto the bright green grass.

Stork is still alive. Somehow. Perhaps Nova is unused to fighting non-human opponents, for he had missed the merb's heart. It had not been a killing blow. And so Stork presses himself against the man, reaching for the spikes on the shoulder of his uniform to pull one off... But it falls from his limp hands as the pain overwhelms him, and some deep part of his mind tells him that there's no reason to keep on going.

So Aerrow rolls, recovering the spike as it falls and bounding up to his feet.

And he shoves Stork's body aside, plunging the metal made from the _Condor_ deep into Nova's heart. Maybe something in the metal is strong, because it punches right through the ghost's armor, sending a crack down the roosting raven of Cyclonia.

And at the same time, Piper whimpers as she forces her ruined hands to close over the shaft of her spear, forces her weakened muscles to stand upright so that she can thrust that dark oblivion crystal into Nova's back.

And at the same time, Lark reveals the shining blue perfection that is the Shard of the Aurora Stone, clutching it in one shaking hand and leaping with a mad shriek to pierce Nova through the eye, in revenge for the eye she feels she has lost.

And somehow, all three of them hit their mark:

The shining white music deep inside the core of Nova.

The shrieks build up in power like an old-fashioned steam engine, the three scraps of metal growing hot in the hands of their wielders and screaming with Nova as he thrashes in pain and rage. The metal from the _Condor_ melts, scorching Aerrow's hand as the red-hot liquid runs along his hand and arm. He yelps, letting go and reeling backwards, a constant stream of tear-filled curses falling from his mouth. The oblivion crystal shimmers and shakes before losing its color, the purple miasma draining into Nova's core. Piper lets it go with relief, stumbling backwards to look down at her burnt hands.

And the Shard of the Aurora Stone in Lark's hand explodes into a thousand razor sharp pieces, explodes in her face, really. She screams in rage and steps back too late to avoid the shockwave, Nova's death throes.

He collapses into himself with one final scream, a million shooting stars exploding from his congealed noise until all that is left is one, wriggling and useless on the blood-stained ground. The explosion sends them all flying, but Lark, who never had a chance to step back like Aerrow and Piper, who was closest to Nova as the ghost died again, gets the full force of the blast and is sent further backwards into the masonry of the old abandoned house, cracking her head against the stone and falling instantly into unconsciousness.

The last shooting star remains on the floor, but Aerrow is too busy retching to do anything about it, and Piper can only crawl over to Stork's body with tears flooding her beautiful amber eyes.

_Tomp._

One thorny, hoofed foot stomps down upon the last wriggling shooting star that lies on the ground.

Junko's barren, pale face looks down upon it without remorse as it squeals, thrashes once more, and then falls limp on the floor like a glowing worm.

A rotting,

worthless,

_Dead,_

Worm.


	29. Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the mistake you always made, Doc, trying to love a wild thing. You were always lugging home wild things. Once it was a hawk with a broken wing... and another time it was a full-grown wildcat with a broken leg. Remember? You mustn't give your heart to a wild thing. The more you do, the stronger they get, until they're strong enough to run into the woods or fly into a tree. And then to a higher tree and then to the sky.

**?**

Stork is falling, headfirst.

Hot air blasts past him, throat-clenchingly dry, like the belches, the waves of heat that he gets from standing too close to the _Condor's_ engines while someone else is at the wheel... something that only ever happened twice in his short, frenetic life. But still. The comparison is not only accurate, it is the only comparison there is. Perhaps if he had spent more time in the desert and less in the jungle he would have more metaphors to create, but he did not and does not. This place he falls is the product of his imagination, a place of peace. Quiet as an early morning, or late at night. There is no sound but the flutter, constant bat-wing flaps of his ears, the rushing of the wind, the occasional sharp breath.

He is in lingo, perhaps.

Or a way station between the worlds.

Maybe this is Heaven. Endless, weightless sleep.

I don't know.

But he stops sooner than he should have. Abruptly. Painfully. He snaps into wakefulness against his will, swinging in midair. The world around him goes into more focus- but not by much. Where had he been falling? It had looked like an endless black but now there seems to be dimensions; fleshy, pulsing red walls, and a faint yellow glow of indeterminate origin. Like an old light bulb sheds light on his strange surroundings and even stranger companions in this dark world he created.

Nova clings to the wall, feet and left hand digging deep into the pulsing red wall of the tunnel- because it is a tunnel now, an earthy tunnel of red clay. His left hand is wrapped around Stork's ankle and with that contact, Stork remembers everything.

_And man, I mean everything._

With the recollection of who and what they are, Stork starts to panic, struggling with the other dead man. Nova grins down at him, at his sputtering. "N-no! Let me go!"

Nova chuckles, not unkindly, and begins to climb with Stork in tow. "You're not my first choice, but you'll do," he says, more to himself than to the merb. To speak is laborious, but he still manages. "Don't worry, though, Stork. Once we're out of here you'll see things differently. They all do." He swings to the side in order to clutch at a better handhold and continues to climb, one hand firmly gripping Stork by his ankle.

"Out of here?" Stork croaks. "We're dead!"

Nova is encountering a little trouble. Stork's efforts at escape are growing stronger, and so his response is a little delayed. It still doesn't make much sense, though. "Yes," he says. "But don't you want to feel the sun on your face again? Do you remember what water tastes like? Don't you want that again- to see your little friends again, perhaps?"

He wheedles despite the fact that he will kill them all ruthlessly the moment he escapes from this prison once more. He won't even bring them back as slaves. Gone. Good riddance. No need for this. He can make another son- maybe. He still isn't sure yet. Not sure what he's capable of, in the shell his willpower creates upon entering the mortal world.

"Don't you want to live again?"

"No!"

Nova snorts. "Too bad." Then his tone brightens. "But you'll change your mind, they all do. And look!" he grins, mud-smeared face shining in the suddenly intense light from above. "Here's our lovely ticket out. Half of it, anyway. You're the other half. You're still... fresh."

Stork is barely paying attention to what Nova is saying, too distracted by what he sees ahead. A floor appears beneath them, so Nova lets Stork go- finally. His face smacks against the cold stone and he swears, somehow managing to rise on shaky legs to glare at the interruption to his darkness.

It's Lark.

Hmm.

Well gee, _I_ sure wasn't expecting that. Stork is surprised, too, especially because of the pitiful condition she's in. She's emaciated- gaunt- wasted- broken. Her red eyes are closed, the deep shadows underneath them making her seem like nothing so much as an empty corpse, a skeleton. Nova reaches up to gently pull her to him, this floating, golden child. Does she look this way in life? So delicate? So breakable? Stork can't remember. I can't remember either, not even who I am, or how long I've been a spectator here in Stork's afterlife. I had been falling, too. But now we've stopped. And I can see other places, too, in my sleep. Places that don't exist yet. And I am no longer confined to a shell, so I can even see the worlds inside people's hearts. There's no barriers. Not anymore.

Not even Time can stop me.

Not even Death.

But what does it matter, if I can't do anything with my knowledge? No shell- no contact- no communication. It's a bitter triumph. An empty victory.

Starling stares up at the green-blue sky of her dream. It's cool where she is, the perfect temperature, even though she is in a desert and it never rains, it is cool. There's an oasis ahead of her, so she reaches out and pulls it over to her, kicks off her jump boots, and dips her feet in it. She knows Stork is near when it grows a little warmer in her dream, and in the rich black swamp mud around the oasis. A seed is planted in the mud. Then I guess somebody presses the fast-forward button, because a flower uncurls from the seed.

Merlop.

He's very close.

Ashes.

The merlop turns into ashes, and the desert wind blows it away. The skies grow dark and cloudy, lightning flashes- green lightning. It matches her. The stab of anxiety that shoots through the space where her heart used to be. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. Stork and Nova are fighting, mindless energy buffeting against each other like blue jays fighting- have you ever seen blue jays fighting? Aerrow and I watched the whole thing. Have you ever seen butterflies fighting? They might have been fighting. I don't know. They looked too out-of-synch to be mating. It looked violent.

And very beautiful.

But I don't know much about butterflies. Either way. It looks like butterflies fighting, that's what it looks like.

And Nova jumps up, latching onto Lark, his gateway to the world we used to live in and now we just die in. Stork grabs him, grapples with him, because he knows now how to see like I see, and he understands the bonds of passion and forbidden love and open hate that bind the two Cyclonian nobles. A bond that was there since the day Lark was told she had a fiancé- a fiancé she knew nothing about and craved desperately to know about, only to learn too late what type of man he really was. The type it's dangerous to know.

Too late. Too late.

They were bound together through hate and love and he keeps coming back, clinging to that fragile thread between the two, the one that pulses with that burning, violent energy of the red clay walls around them.

But not anymore.

It's Stork's dream, and he's in control. He yanks them apart and cuts the string and throws Nova to the floor. "She's not your ticket out of here," he growls as Lark floats away, rises to the source of the dim yellow light and taking her own burning, intense life with her so that the two dead men can be left in darkness once more. She lifts. Like a balloon. The flesh returns to her bones, higher altitude, closer to life, farther from Nova- forever.

Stork punches the stone floor.

_"And neither-"_

Lark looks normal again. The blush of blood in her cheeks. Meat on her bones. Alive again, with no Nova to suckle from her soul and sanity any longer. Stork gives her his last parting gift because here he sees there was never a reason to hate her, not when she was living with this parasite inside her all this time. He sends his knowledge to her before she departs, because unlike me he remembers what it's like to have a shell. He's... fresh, as Nova puts it. He remembers that innate talent of the merbs, the transfer of power.

Just like Verna and Starling.

_"-Am I!"_

Then she's gone. Pop. Balloon.

Then she wakes up on Terra Gale with a splitting headache and the realization that she knows everything Stork ever knew.

 _And man... I mean everything_.

But it's not over yet. Stork knows Nova will keep coming back and keep coming back unless he's put so deep in this dream world he can't escape. So Stork is going to personally make sure he can't ever come back again- ever. He's going down as far as he can go, and he's taking Nova down with him.

Stork punches the stone floor, and it cracks.

Nova grips the front of Stork's uniform- the X of that Storm Hawk's uniform- and he pleads. "You can't," he gasps, eyes wide with terror and tears.

Stork looks him full in the eyes, a nasty grin splitting his face in two. "Oh, but I can."

Stork punches the floor and it shatters like glass and they fall, Nova screaming and Stork deathly quiet in anticipation of what they would find at the end of the tunnel. He knows it will be bad- worse than bad. Anyone like Nova deserves the worst.

They don't fall for very long.

Stork wishes they had.

Because he had no idea how bad it really is.

The red walls- red light again? They're in a cave, but a cave that extends for years and miles. Perhaps it is a cave. It feels like there's a roof but they can't be sure. Dead sprouts of yellow grass burst upwards from cracks in the dusty floor, and the valley under the earth is spread out before them. They can see everything- and hear everything- and Nova backs up into Stork but Stork pushes him forward.

Creatures rise up from the dust.

And screams echo all around them as their world is thrown into sharp focus. All around them, belches of flame erupt out of the walls, out of the cracks in the floor of this red world. And something from above snatches Nova, cuts off his scream. The maw of a dragon-like creature made of solid obsidian clamps around his middle and Stork watches Nova's legs squirm, his entire upper body inside the mouth of the dragon. A single green eye regards Stork for a moment with something equal to amusement before spitting out Nova to face the merb. Nova lands in the dust, rolling and tumbling towards the waiting hands of the creatures who had been hovering just out of range, waiting for a chance to pounce.

And they pounce, four of them each grabbing a limb and-

Stork turns his head away, hyperventilating as he remembers what fear felt like in life. The pressure in your gut. The dripping sweat. The ache in your heart. But Stork does not have these symptoms of fear anymore- no shell, no heart- and so his mind screams for him in the sheer purity of the fear with no outlet through the skin's pores.

The serpent's long neck slithers so that they're eye-to-eye again, shining now with obvious, almost mischievous delight.

 _Don't get so jealous,_ he seems to say to Stork. _We have plenty of time for you, too, don't we boys?_

And the _screaming-_

Scaled hands grab his head, force him to look. _YOU were the one who said he deserved this,_ it says, howling into his mind even though he closes his eyes and grabs his ears, shivering as he sinks to the floor, but still he sees everything and hears everything. This is not his dream anymore, and the rules are not his to bend. _YOU were the one who brought him to his death! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO BOUGHT HIS TICKET TO HELL! AND NOW YOU_ _ **WILL**_ _SEE WHAT IT WAS YOU BOUGHT!_

All he can understand is that those long red ropes must be his intestines. And a fifth gray, smoky creature reaches into the gash in Nova's belly- digs around despite the writhing, filthy messy human howling in pain beneath his hands. The last scream echoes forever in Stork's mind, perfectly in key with the one his father emitted before he died.

But the difference here is that Nova is already dead. Still, he seems to die anyway, his head lolling to the side and still that humanoid devil digs inside him. He backs off with his prize in his arms- a squalling, pink baby. Splashed in blood. Red eyes shut in concentration as it bawls in the ear-grating way only newborns can manage, picking up where Nova left off.

A flashing white grin fills the span of his vision after that.

"Seen enough?" says the serpent, caressing his face. "Because there's still a lot left to show you, Stork. And so little time. But just enough. If we hurry."

He grabs Stork by the wrist, suddenly humanoid now, grey-fleshed and rotting. He tugs.

"Come now, Stork, we have lots to-"

A sharp noise cuts through everything. Someone claps twice- the kind the teacher gives when he's trying to catch the attention of the class, the type a leader does to maintain silence. It's authoritative and rings in the ears long after it is gone, and every head turns to see the newcomer.

She's a desert rider, legs astride one of the massive orange birds used as mounts there for land travel. One gloved hand holds the reins, trying to control the beast who fidgets and shuffles in place, amber eyes rolling all around at the scent of blood. Upon spotting Stork she clucks to her beast and guides it to the merb, holding out her free hand.

"I think you're a little lost, Stork," Starling says, eyes hidden from behind thick goggles meant to protect from the desert sun, mouth muffled by a purple silk scarf. Glancing once at the scene behind him and back at Starling, unbelieving of his good luck, Stork clambers onto the bird faster than he would have in any other circumstance imaginable.

Any.

He puts his hands around Starling's waist, looking fearfully at the rotting corpse-man who wanted to take him further into this world of nightmares. Will he let them leave? Does he have so much control that he won't let them leave? Stork fears deep in the spot where his heart used to be- a fear that this is where he belongs after all, that the heaven he had been in was a fluke and here he was, ready to pay for all his mistakes. But no. The serpent shrugs, a disappointed smile gracing his features. "Perhaps next time."

Starling's face is, of course, unreadable. So is her heart. "Perhaps," she says, polite to the very last. Then she clucks her tongue again and races off into the depths of cavern in a different direction than the serpent had wanted to go, Stork clutching onto her for dear life. They move faster than the eye can see, and the scenery blurs around them, gradually growing hot and dry in a completely different way. The light grows steadily brighter until they find themselves in the desert, with no sign that they had ever been anywhere else. Starling stops, pulling her scarf down to scent the wind like a wolf, nostrils flaring, guiding the riding bird with her knees so that they do a full 360 in order to view the landscape. "This way," she murmurs at last, taking off in a new direction.

Before long, they find the oasis, with merlop flowers in full bloom all along the bank. With a sigh of relief, Starling dismounts from her ride, the groan of the leather of her uniform the only sound in this dream. It's not the Interceptor uniform- not the Storm Hawks uniform, either. The spikes on the shoulders and the insignia on the back of her vest proudly proclaim her to be a Raptor- and the wild cut of her hair and the grit and dirt on her face say that she has been roughing it for quite a while. Stork knows he's seeing Starling as she used to be- when she was his age, in fact. He's surprised to see she used to be a tomboy.

"You…" he starts timidly, still on the bird. He doesn't know how to ride one, but if a hasty escape was needed he could certainly figure out how. And he is still scared- scared this is a trap to lure him into safety before cruelly taking it away. "You used to live here."

It's not a question.

"Yes," she answers.

"With Repton."

"Yes."

"And… and he…" Stork points in one direction with one hand and in an opposite direction with the other hand, desperately trying to see the connection between what used to be two very different ideas. "And you…You were his first in- first in- his right hand- one of the _leaders?_ \- but you-" Information is flooding his head, and it is not a welcome development. He sinks in his seat, palms grinding into his forehead.

_Beep, beep, beep._

"Yes, we did. Now, are you going to sit on Mimi all day? She's getting tired." Starling motions to the bird, who does seem to be giving Stork the Stink Eye. "And upset. Careful, she's a cranky one."

"I don't understand. Where are we?"

_Beep, beep, beep._

"In my dream. Where I'm happy. And some of the happiest days of my life were on Bogaton. The saddest, too, but…" she smiles, pulling off her goggles and shaking her short, wild hair like a dog. Droplets of sweat splatter around her and she sighs again before regarding the endless expanse of desert and scrublands she now calls her home. "…But I don't dwell on those days."

"Jesus Christ!" Stork suddenly exclaims, sitting upright with his ears erect and his eyes wide. "Shakespeare!"

"…What?"

"He was right! That sly bastard!" Stork grins at himself, pleased at this revelation he had made.

"…I'm not following."

"To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, but there's the rub…" Stork quotes, finally mustering the courage to put one hand on the saddle and vault free from the bird, landing in a crouch at Starling's feet before springing up straight again, clasping her hands with a feverous tremor rolling through his whole body. "For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come?"

Starling smiles at him the way she used to, half amused and half unsure if she should be amused. "I never read Shakespeare. I'm sorry. Repton force-fed me a little Keats, but other than that… Well, I was a Sky Squire, and a full time rebel, and not much interested in literature."

_Beep, beep, beep._

His ears droop a bit. "Well… Maybe I can teach you about it. And _you_ can tell me what the hell is the deal with you being a Raptor!" He adds, not having lost that reference to Repton she had made.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Maybe."

_Beep, beep, beep._

"Listen Stork, there's something I want to do before anything else happens. OK?" she steps forward, presses her forehead against his, keeping him there by gripping his shoulders tightly. "I never understood it until now, what she meant. But now I do- and here you are- so take this." She closes her eyes. "It's from your mother."

And this is how Stork had to die to finally feel what it was to be loved, completely and utterly, without conditions, and to feel that same love in return. Where was Verna now? They didn't know. If Verna was in her own dream, maybe it was a dream where they didn't exist. Maybe they were oddballs, sharing a dream like this, maybe it was a breach in protocol, but in their hearts they were both rebels to the core (no matter what their outside shell might have said or done) and they knew they wouldn't have it any other way.

Stork snorts, a wry smile finding its way to his face. And then almost as soon as it's there, he loses it. "Starling?" he asks. "How long are we going to be here? In your dream?"

"As long as we want."

"Isn't there another level beyond this one? You know, a light at the end of the tunnel?"

_Is that where Mom is..?_

Starling shrugs. "I really don't know. I think so. But maybe we're not ready to-" she stops abruptly, putting one arm defensively across Stork's chest as she turns… and looks directly at me. Stork looks at me too, seeing me for the first time, and ogles in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?" she asks sharply of me. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"Finn!" Stork says, trying to take a step forward, reaching out to me. "What are you _doing_ -"

I step backwards, the revelation hitting me in the chest. _Finn_! That's my name! That's who I am! I remember! I remember! I remember the shape of my shell and I-

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

**BEEP BEEP**

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

I start to scream in pain, the color draining from this beautiful desert dream as I'm ripped away from the world without barriers. But the scream only comes out as a moan, muffled by the mask on my face. My eyes open blearily and I can see a world full of white, bright lights, and so much pain. I groan again.

_Beep, beep, beep._

_Crash._

"Oh my God!"

It's Piper's voice, cracking on the verge of panic. "Guys! _Guys_! Oh my God- Oh my- _Guys, get in here! He's waking up! I think he's waking up_!" I feel a pressure on my side, Piper leaning over me, hands cupping my face, bloodshot eyes brimming with tears. "Finn, baby. Can you hear me? Are you awake?"

I cough, weakly, trying to brush her hands away. "Nah, Piper, I'm just talking in my sleep is all."

"He's being sarcastic," Aerrow's voice takes over the room, laughing helplessly as he bounds over to my bedside. "He _is_ awake!"

"Okay, okay, I'm awake, I freaking get it!" I cough again, wondering why the hell I feel so weak. Why I have this dumb mask on my face. Why everything doesn't hurt anymore, just feels so…

… _numb_?

Piper rests her bandaged hands over mine, pressing them against my chest. "Finn," she tells me, her voice gentle as she explains it all to me in one short sentence.

"You've been in a coma for over a month."

**OoOoOo**

**Lark.**

I look in the mirror, my gut churning from an unwelcome mix of déjà vu and intimidation upon seeing the familiar stranger in my reflection. I set the small tube of eyeliner down on the sink, gracefully resting my hands over my reflection to frame my face, the shocking blue of my eyes contrasting with the magenta of my freshly painted nails, the sharp, tangy smell of the nail polish making me lightheaded. I'd have to open a window soon. Or faint.

One finger trails over the face of the girl in the mirror, along the red scar that slashes along over her left eye. When she shuts her left eyelid, squinting through her right one, I can see that the line is complete. The girl in the mirror opens her eyes again, regarding me with that same deadly expression I would always wear, deadpan yet disturbed, calm as the eye of the storm.

Yeah, I feel a faint spell coming on.

The door creaks open before that, though, and Piper steps in with her eyes trained on the floor. You know. The kind of look you do when you're deep in thought, where only ten percent of your mind is concentrating on the world outside and that's just on the floor ahead of you so you don't trip on a banana peel, or something.

But she stops short when she sees my booted feet, taking a few rushed steps back and looks up to meet my neutral expression. Her eyes widen a fraction- and I remember how I look. I glance over at the empty packet of black dye inside the sink before finding my gaze returning to the mirror. Hello, Stranger. Hello, Cyclonis. My bangs slide into my face as I lower my head, unconsciously practicing a narrow, piercing gaze that would send people running in fear.

Or, you know, not.

Piper is still silent, so I decide to speak up, break the tension in the room. Maybe she thinks I'm having some sort of evil relapse.

"…Hi," I say to my temporary ship mate. I'd been living on the _Condor_ ever since the Battle for Terra Gale. First it was because I wasn't really in any shape to move around on my own. Then it was because I didn't know if I could move around on my own. Now it's because I'm not sure I want to move around on my own, even if I know I'll have to.

Eventually.

It just seems like there's still something left for me to do here.

"Hi," she says back. Then she gestures around her, more than a little flustered and trying to explain herself. "I'm sorry, the lights were off- I assumed- it didn't seem like it was occupied."

I raise my hands, eyes closed and smile benign. "Chill. Chill. I'm fine. You, however, are not."

"…huh?"

"You look like crap," I tell her bluntly, and it's true. Out of everyone, Piper has been the most affected by Stork's death and Finn's strange affliction. It's apparent in her face, and in her attitude, and just the way she carries herself. More often than not, she's looking at the floor rather than a map or a new crystal. That was another reason I'd stayed on the _Condor_ \- I'd sort of taken up Piper's job. I point now to the toilet, kicking down the lid. "Sit. I'm going to do your makeup."

"I really don't-"

"Sit."

She sits, and she looks at the floor, and that worries me more than anything. And it pisses me off that I get worried. And it pisses me off that I can't have her any more than she can have Stork. And it pisses me off that I'm still alive and with no purpose and no direction and Piper is still here, but unlike that day they picked me up on Terra Neon she isn't the same as always. Piper is different now, and Piper had always been my North Star. If the North Star started jumping around in the sky, didn't that mean the world was ending?

And they were supposed to save it…

My fingertips brush against her cheek and she glances up at me, the barest hint of her old curiosity shining in her amber eyes. I have kept my distance from her for a while now. No more forcing my feelings on her. No more desperation for a kiss, a touch, a sign, anything. I haven't tried because in the state she's in right now, it would feel like rape.

Maybe she thinks I'm going to do it now. But I just apply the foundation, the powder, the lip gloss, the eye shadow, all as gentle as love is supposed to be. In storybooks, anyway. But it's not the gentleness of handling an unstable crystal- that, that is from fear. This is from… something else and fear. Fear that she'll break even more, and any chance of fixing her would be thrown out the window.

"Now we just have to do something with that hair," I tsk, her braids draped loosely over my open palm. Braids that seem more like dreads.

She shrugs. "Finn did these braids for me. I want to… keep them that way."

At the mention of Finn's name, a shifty edginess rises inside me. "He woke up today, didn't he?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"Yep." Piper tilts her head back, eyes focused on the ceiling now. "But the doctors want to keep him there for a little longer, give him a little physical therapy and maybe fit him with a fake leg."

"Hey, I've still got my crutches somewhere if he wants them," I remind her. "We could be gimp buddies."

"Hah." Piper says, deadpan. "God, that was so funny. No, really. I think I split my side."

"I'm making fun at my own expense, it'd better be funny."

She shakes her head, getting to her feet in a laborious process of unfolding herself from her hunched seat on the toilet and straightening out, hands on the small of her back as she stretches, a series of pops sounding from somewhere deep inside her. Then she starts to leave- without another word.

But I can't stand that.

Not today.

"Piper, don't go."

I grab her wrist and pull her back so fast she loses her balance, hop-skipping to the side and towards me, eyes widening for a moment before narrowing at me.

"You didn't thank me for your makeup," I snip.

"I didn't want my makeup done in the first place."

"Then why'd you let me do it?" I counter, the echo of my taunt resonating in the stark white tiles of the bathroom.

"Because I didn't feel like arguing with you."

"Why not?"

"What, you _want_ me to argue with you?"

" _Yes_!" I shout in her face. I didn't mean to shout, but there it is. I wait for somebody to burst in on us and find out what's making all the ruckus, but seconds pass and nobody has said a word. "Yes," I say again, to her perturbed face. "Yes. Anything is better than this. Even arguing."

Her face darkens, and once again I wonder if she doesn't have some sort of radar for danger. Or some sort of power of premonition. Or maybe she's just itching for a fight, just like me. "Better than what?"

I don't hold back. I'm sick of being gentle. I honestly am. "Better than you acting like Stork is the first person in the history of the world to die."

There. I said it. Now crucify me.

And she slaps me, the thick white bandages on her hands only adding an extra, grating sensation to the pain rather than cushioning the blow. "That must have hurt," I say. Her hands weren't fully healed yet and everyone knew it.

"Like a bitch," she agrees, strangely breathless. "So there. Are you happy now, Lark? Want me to do it again? Want me to get _super_ angry? Do you want me to hurt you?" She grabs me by the front of my shirt now, lifting me so that I stand on the tips of my toes. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Break me. If you can, that is…" I relent, amiable to the last. So she slams me against the bathroom wall with all her strength, which is considerable when you remember that she's been practicing martial arts since she could stand on two feet. Now that must have _really_ hurt her, because I know it hurt me. Stars explode behind my eyes, an entire galaxy, and my head lolls senselessly to the side.

This slab of meat in my mouth must have been my tongue at one point. I think my teeth nipped it upon impact, because there's something coppery in my mouth that tastes like blood. Or it might just be I'm nervous, my spit tastes like that when I'm nervous. And hungry. From somewhere distant, I feel my stomach rumble and remember I haven't eaten anything since I woke up this morning. My tongue somehow manages to flex again in synchrony with my lips and vocal chords. "Feeling better now, honey?" I mumble, looking at the floor rather than her burning orange eyes.

She lets me go and I slide down the wall, feeling like something disgusting that had dragged itself out of the toilet. _Of course she can't handle death, you retard,_ my conscience tells me, in a voice eerily similar to Stork's. _She's not like you. She doesn't understand it._

 _Neither do you, and she hates it just like you,_ says another voice. _She's_ exactly _like you. That's how you know how to get a rise out of her, how to make her angry in all your devious little ways. Because you look at her and you see a reflection of yourself, two years ago. What did you do when Immer died? Nothing… nothing… except make things worse._

 _Yes, but how could Piper ever make things worse the way I had?_ I ask them. _And me… I'm no comfort to her. I don't know what to do except fight with her._

God, this is the first time she's willingly touched me in over a month. Is this what it takes? My obsession only grows every time we get intense like this. _I love it. I hate it. I need to leave. I've been here too long. Fuck, why do I want to kiss her now of all times? It's so dizzying. And yet I can't help but feel that this is the way it should be, because neither of us could ever be normal._

"This is the way it should be between us," I tell her, dragging myself away from my ghosts and up to my feet. Neither of us are looking at the floor, now, just at each other, and it's driving me a little more crazy than usual. "Violent and random, like a bolt of lightning."

"I'm not gonna stay here and play your mind games."

"Good," I tell her. "Because I'm leaving tomorrow."

That doesn't faze her as much as I had hoped it would. "Me too, as soon as Finn comes back."

So it's my turn to be shocked. Of all the things I had expected her to say, that was not one of them. She tries to leave again and I lunge, hooking my arms under hers and lifting her up before twisting to the side and kicking her legs out from under her. She falls to the floor and I pin her there- she's not the only martial artist here.

"If you leave," I tell her, "The Storm Hawks will be broken."

"They're already broken," she spits at me. "And they've broken before. And you know what?" she lifts her upper body, trying to break free from the hold but only manages to push her face closer to mine. God. _Stop doing this to me, Piper,_ I think as I feel her heart thrumming against mine, a thousand beats per minute. "I hope to God this time they stay broken." _Stop being so fragile. You make me want to break you when I know I shouldn't._

_God, but I want to so bad._

"Don't say that. Don't you dare say that. You're not supposed to give up, not now. Not _you_." Not you, damn it. Not you. Fight me. Fight it. Stop _changing_. Stop being so fragile. Beat me up, or something.

"Why do you even care about the Storm Hawks?"

I snarl. "I _don't_ care about the Storm Hawks. I care about _you_. I don't want you to become what I am- more so than you already are- and if you leave them, you will be. Just like me." My hand switches, I don't know why, from her wrist to one of her breasts, and my own heart throbs painfully with a sudden burst of fear at my reckless abandon, lowering myself to whisper in her ear. "…And you don't want that. You hate me. _More than anyone else_."

Do something. Do something. Kiss me or… punch me or _something_. Don't just sit there and let me break you. I take advantage of the placement of my mouth to lip gently along the shell of her ear and that's when she turns her head so that my lips catch her lips instead. And her tongue. _What the?_ She forces it in between my teeth and I jerk back as sure as if she had bitten me, startled so much that I let her go and sit up straight, one hand pressed to my invaded mouth.

I had forgotten one more element of lightning that existed between us- unpredictability.

Her voice is cold. "You shouldn't start things you can't finish," she tells me, roughly pushing me aside and stalking away. I don't follow her, because she's right.

I can't finish what I started.

I never can.

…her foot steps fade away…

…I need to leave. Tomorrow. Or today. Just soon, so I don't have to look at her face anymore. So I'm not tempted by that lightning anymore, it always ends up burning one of us.

My welcome on the _Condor_ has officially been overstayed, anyway, and she's right.

Heh…

She's… right…

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

**Five Months Later.**

"Come on, man, you knew we'd have to do this eventually."

Radarr rubs against my face, as if echoing what Finn just said. I pull him off my shoulders and hold him in my arms instead, hugging him tightly as I look out the great front glass of the _Condor_. Just the four of us, where there used to be six- used to be seven. Radarr climbs back up to my shoulder and I turn around, headed towards the exit. "You two go ahead," I say. "This place is full of great pilots. Just find somebody you get along with, that'll be more important than anything else. OK?"

"Dude, she's not here."

I stop short.

"You don't know that," I say without thinking, when I had actually meant to say something along the lines of negating any chance that I was here to look for Piper.

"Yes, I do." With a sour face, Finn smoothly hops over on his crutches towards me. He'd forgotten to charge his leg last night and was in a bad mood since he had to use his "cripple sticks", as he so liked to call them. "I know the only reason we're here is because you heard another rumor that Piper of the Storm Hawks-"

"Finn, we're here to get a new pilot. That's all."

He smiles. "Then why, exactly, don't you want to go with us?"

A hundred empty terras full of people with blank faces. That's why. Because every lead was false or old or stale. Because she left and never came back. Because Stork left and never came back. Because ever since Finn woke up from that coma of his, he's been more perceptive of me than ever, like he can see right through me. And he's right, of course. I want to go look for Piper.

"…Let's go," I say, begrudging him his clairvoyance. And I stomp out and he clicks out after me and Junko takes up the rear with his easy, steady stride. I have memorized their foot patterns over the years together- can hear them coming a mile away on the metal floors of the _Condor_. "OK, so remember, guys- We're on _Terra Forge_."

"I know which Terra we're on, buddy."

"Yeah, but still. I'm saying be careful…" We leave the _Condor_ unattended without fear. Nobody is likely to mess with the Storm Hawks anytime soon. Especially since there were some rumors floating around that we were somehow responsible for the disaster at Terra Atmosia. We don't bother correcting people anymore, since on some level we really are responsible.

Atmos- world of a thousand mountaintop kingdoms, each protected by a Sky Knight against the forces of darkness. The greatest of all Sky Knights led the Storm Hawks. His mission was to unite Atmos forever- but he was betrayed, the Storm Hawks defeated, and all hope lost. As the last descendent of the original Storm Hawks I thought it was my job to continue his mission, but as of late it's seemed more hopeless than ever. Though Terra Atmosia is still on the path to reconstruction, just building a new tower won't fix what's been going on recently. All of the old Sky Council members and those who would have taken their place are dead. There were some who wanted us to somehow take control, but… but that wouldn't be right. We don't know anything about leading- not on such a big scale. I had tried to call all the squadrons of Atmos together to agree on new Council members but the squadrons have sort of retreated to their own Terras. With no one left to report to we're on the verge of pure anarchy, and only the Storm Hawks can stop it. Somehow, we'll have to unite the Terras like Griffin tried to do. And if we don't, well…

It won't be pretty.

"…This place has a reputation," I finish. "Rough crowds."

"But good pilots," Junko adds, glancing around us with interest as we start to reach the city. "I hear it's the racing that brings them- whoa!"

 _ZZZZZZZZHEW_!

Three skimmers rocket through the narrow street- in air mode. The four of us duck and roll or jump into vendor's stalls selling wrenches and bolts. Other pedestrians do the same with considerable more finesse than us, and a lot less frightened swearing. They look at us with a sort of amused disdain- obvious tourists not used to the insane roads here. I blink up at the sky, on my back and half buried in spare parts. The vendor looks down at me with a little more sympathy than others were doing right now.

"You're not from around here, are ya?" he asks me, helping me out of his merchandise.

"Is it very obvious?" I ask while pulling a screwdriver out from between the wings of my battle glider. Laughing awkwardly at myself, I try to help him fix his kiosk. "Sorry about that."

"Nah, I'm used to it."

Junko scurries across the street towards me, anxiously looking both ways as he does so. "Is it always like this?" he wants to know, completely intimidated.

"It's generally worse in the spring, but right now there's a really tense air about the place." The vendor looks around, hoary eyebrows bunching together. "Say, wasn't there another fella with you guys?"

"Um…" I look up when I hear Finn's voice. He's clinging to a drain pipe jutting out the side of a building and trembling. "Up here…?"

"Jesus, Finn!" I exclaim. "How'd you get up there?"

"I honestly have no idea…"

After we pull Finn down, the vendor- who's name turns out to be Sam- sits us down and explains to us everything. The kiosk he owns is like the front porch of his small, cramped house, so he goes inside and gets us some drinks while we volunteer to man his stall for a little while. (Finn is still a little shell shocked so I don't want to move him yet.)

"So yeah, seems like the whole town's in a buzz cause of this new high-stakes race coming along tomorra. I assume that's why you're here?"

I shake my head no, gently rubbing Finn's shoulder as he sits next to me, still shivering and muttering about disrespectful kids and their fast skimmers. "We need a carrier pilot," I tell him. "And I heard this is where a lot of pilots congregate."

Sam snorts. "A carrier pilot? I'm sorry, kid, but maybe you're better off looking in Terra Aguilero if you're looking for a lump to drive you from place to place."

Junko frowns. "We don't _want_ a lump. We want a _racer_."

"Yeah," I agree. "Somebody…"

"…Crazy?" Sam ventures.

"Yeah."

"Well, there's no shortage of young crazies around here," Sam says, thinking carefully. "But…"

"But…?"

"But there's talk going around about this new guy, a Paneid from Terra Bakkohs. All the bets are in his favor- they say he's a real wild one. A real demon."

I turn to Junko and Finn. "A Pan, huh…"

"His name is Ammi-Mano Vex. He spends most of his time in a mechanic's shop called Haven. If you're looking for him, that's the best place to start."

**OoOoOo**

The four of us try to puzzle out a map of the town we had somehow salvaged from Piper's room- none of us can bear to think of it as an empty room just yet. "Look," I say for what felt like the billionth time. "Sam said it was here, ok!" I jab at the spot on the map.

"And I'm telling you, dude, that it was here." Finn points to another spot.

Radarr chirped and squealed, pointing again at again at yet a different location on the map.

"I think we're just a little lost, guys, admit it," Junko, trying to be reasonable, is gently pulling me and Finn apart. I'm practically forehead to forehead with the sharpshooter and my temper is getting the better of me. "Why don't we just ask for directions?"

"Well we wouldn't have to if Mr. Wonderful here would admit that he's wrong!"

Junko grimaces at his lack of progress. " _Or_ , we could _ask_ , for _directions_ ," he says again, forcefully grabbing me and Finn and dragging us through the street. "Come on, you two. Be nice."

And that's when we spot them. I think all four of us saw the girls at the same time, but again it's Junko who manages to get past himself and say something about it.

"Is that… Lark?" he asks, uncertain and squinting. "And Rave?"

"LOOK OUT, HOSERS!"

A couple of Blizzarians zoom by, knocking us apart again. We're sprawled out on the street for a few seconds, trying to get our bearings again when the crowd surges forward in the wake of the ice grinders, separating us fully. I stand up, waving to get their attention over the heads of the people. From where they're standing on the corner of one of the sidewalks, I can see Rave looking down at the shorter girl with impatience, eyebrow twitching and foot tapping on the ground. Lark says something; Rave cracks a smile but then almost as quickly loses it and turns her face away, crossing her arms with a huffy face. Lark hands her a brown paper bag and the Bangledon takes it and starts to walk away.

"Rave! Heeeeey!" Finn shouts over the noise of the crowds. "Rave! Over here! RAVE!"

I signal to Finn, not trusting him to hear me over the squabble of Forge's overpopulated streets. _Tail her_. To Junko I mimics steering and flying and toss the map over to him- _Find Ammi-Mano_. To the both of them I lift three fingers and give the symbol for 'home', letting them know that we should try to meet up at the _Condor_ in three hours.

I go after Lark. I don't know why I just split up my team, or what's so important about the meeting that just took place… but I know I have to follow her. Besides, one of them might know where Piper is. They were both close to her- close in different ways, but close nonetheless.

 _Not closer than us,_ a bitter voice says inside my head. _Never closer than us._

Pushing through the crowds and taking advantages of the times when skimmers would race by and temporarily empty out the streets, I somehow managed to gain on Lark. She walks with a purpose, a destination in mind. You can always tell by the way a person walks if they're lost or not. "Hey!" I shout when I think I'm close enough. I don't dare say the one name that would most certainly get her attention- Cyclonis- but I manage to bark out "Lark!" instead.

She hears me, stops in place with her head twitching slightly to the side upon hearing her name, like a dog cocking its ears. Then she turns fully around, hands hooked around the straps to her leather backpack. I push through the crowd again and stop just in front of where she's waiting, wondering what I would do now.

"Uh, hi," I say, more than a little awkwardly. What does one say to an ex-enemy? Wanna go grab a coffee and catch up? How is that darling little dog of yours? By the way, I've been suffering every night in silence because my sister and best friend abandoned us in the middle of the night without so much as a warning?

Piper… Could she possibly know where Piper is?

Finn was the last one to speak to her- he had seen her in the act of leaving and tried to stop her-

**OoOoOo**

" _You can't!" he clutched onto her hand once he realized what she was doing, desperately trying to keep his balance on his new leg. "Piper, no! Why? Why?"_

_She didn't even look at him, eyes trained on the stormy night sky outside. "Because this place is haunted," she said, voice an even monotone. She pulled away from him, her hand sliding out of his grasp but then he yanks her back, forcing her to face him._

" _You're not," he says, the low note of his voice almost a growl. "I'm not letting you. You can't."_

" _Yeah? Why not, exactly?"_

_And that's when he exploded. He had been feeling it in his heart for years now, but never voiced it. And he didn't mean to voice it then, but it was the only truth that would make her stay._

" _Because that's not what a mother does!"_

**OoOoOo**

But she did. She froze him with a paralyzer crystal. The noise of their fight had woken me up- I'm a light sleeper.

**OoOoOo**

_Bursting into the hangar, Aerrow arrived just in time to see the faint glow of Piper's engine as she sped off into the night, leaving a trail of scorched rubber on the hangar floor and Finn's frozen body to mark her presence. The Sky Knight somehow managed to unthaw him, remembering an old trick Arygyn had once taught him in the two years after the fall of Cyclonia. Finn snapped to life at once, stumbling along towards the open hangar door and screaming at the full force of his lungs-_

"…!"

**OoOoOo**

"If you have something to say, I suggest you spit it out, Sky Knight."

I had forgotten that, Cyclonis or not, Lark could still be a real asshole. "Right. Well. I was going to be polite but if you're going to be that way I'll skip right to the point." I bite my lower lip for a second, gnawing over the question before asking: "Do you know where Piper is?"

Lark holds my eyes with her dark ones- dark as her hair. She's changed their color again to solid black. Up till now she'd still be a little wary in her attitude, seeming ready to take off at a moment's notice, but at that she relaxes in the sudden confusion. "What, isn't she with you?" she asks me back, because obviously I wouldn't ask _her_ that question unless Piper were truly lost.

I can only shake my head, helpless in face of this complete and utter disappointment. Another false lead.

**OoOoOo**

_His shaking hands gripped the crossbow, moving faster than Aerrow had thought possible in his current condition. He'd only been wearing the fake leg for a few weeks now. Still too stunned to believe what was happening, Aerrow watched Finn load the crossbow and take aim without comprehending what he was doing until the marksman shot, directly at Piper. Even with the monstrous wind conditions and poor lighting, Finn's aim was dead-on. Aerrow could have sworn he heard the ping of the tip hitting the metal plating on her heliscooter._

" _What the hell are you doing?" He shouted, lunging for the wingman and grappling with him for the crossbow. Finn lifted one leg up and kicked Aerrow directly in the chest, sending the unprepared Sky Knight sprawling._

" _What does it look like I'm doing?" Finn demanded in turn, furiously reloading with another crossbow bolt. He was using blunts only, not crystal-explosive equipped, but still, they could cause some serious damage. "I'll_ shoot- her- out- of- the- SKY _if I have to, but she is not leaving!" He took aim again with deadly calm, finally getting over his quakes to make a better shot. Aerrow tackled him to the floor this time. They fought only further enraged by the madness of their situation. There was a horrible moment when Finn found the bolt pointed directly at Aerrow's unprotected chest, and his finger on the trigger, ready to pull it, but that's when Aerrow's fist found Finn's stomach and the sharpshooter's grasp went slack._

" _Oof."_

_Aerrow flung the crossbow aside, still straddling Finn in case the blonde would try to get up and go after it. But Finn just lay there, looking up at Aerrow with tears of pain in his eyes and those gave way to a steady stream of silent, shuddering crying._

" _Why- why does-"_

_He started sobbing, turning his face aside, unable to bear Aerrow watching him with such shock and pity._

" _Wh-why does everyone… always_ leave _…?"_

**OoOoOo**

"So she actually went through with it," Lark murmurs to herself, eyes downcast. "She left the Storm Hawks."

"You mean you knew she'd do this?"

"I thought she was simply speaking madness in her grief," Lark defends herself, suddenly haughty with her small, pointed chin raised up high. "Like I said, I didn't think she'd actually go through with it."

"Well, she did," I answer shortly.

"Ah," Cyclonis says in response. I mean Lark. It's hard to think of her as anything other than Cyclonis.

"Right. Well…" I gesture vaguely in the direction she had been walking towards. "I guess you have things to do. I just wanted to ask you if you'd seen Piper. If you do, I'd appreciate it if you'd smack her over the head and drag her back to the _Condor_ for me."

Lark snorts in humorless laughter. And then something flickers in her dark eyes and she blurts out: "How is Finn?"

I blink at her. "Why do you care?" I ask her bluntly.

"Well, I don't. I'm just curious."

"Right. Well in that case, I don't feel like telling you."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah. Like I said, I don't care." She turns her back on me, the ends of her traveler's cape swishing around her mud stained boots. "Goodbye, Aerrow."

"Uh…" I hang back, not expecting such an abrupt end to it. But I guess that's the best way to handle it. Cut it off. "…goodbye…"

**OoOoOo**

_Those moment when he would bump into Lark would begin to merge in time. Short or long, pointless or revealing, they all became The Conversation. He would always find her when he was looking for Piper, when his navigations expert was foremost in his mind. It became a trend, almost, to chase her down and say hello, just to acknowledge her, just to let her know she was alive. He wondered how often she received actual human contact. And it started bothering him. The conversations always grew longer with each time they met over the next year, and finally wound up being scheduled. Once a month she would appear on the_ Condor _, the same day of every month and she would stay for exactly one week, like clockwork, and they would talk._

"I think I found a purpose," she told him. "But if I tell you how I found it, I'm afraid you might laugh. It's ridiculous."

"Try me."

She reclined in the chair, her dirty boots up on the table and her dog curled up on the floor nearby. He had grown huge, bear-like as he grew older. She had finally named him when it became apparent that he would grow up to be her own personal attack dog- Bruno. She liked it. It felt masculine, and tough. And brown. How a name could be brown she did not know, but it matched him in any case. "I had a dream," she said at last. "And in the dream was Finn. And he told me I had to go look for the Star."

Aerrow almost choked on his coffee.

_But that's a year from the day before the race, and the Pan named Ammi-Mano. Let's return there._

**OoOoOo**

**Junko.**

I step into the mechanic's shop. It's spacier than a lot of the places around here, with a high ceiling criss-crossed with low-hanging wires and pipes. The whole of the room reminds me vaguely of the clock tower on Terra Glockenchime, but that's just the tan and rusty-colored metal I see everywhere. There's a roped-off staircase leading to a loft on my left. On the right of the room are a few stands to hold up skimmers when the mechanics are working on them- a few of them seem to be occupied with skimmers waiting to be tended to. In front of me is a desk with a lot of scattered tools and spare parts on top, as well as a little bell thingy, so I walk towards that and ring for service.

Almost at once, I'm greeted by the owner of Haven. He's a Pan, around six feet three, like Aerrow, and I wonder if this is the Ammi-Mano I'm looking for.

His long goat ears flicker, hanging down past his cheeks with the weight of the piercing in them. "Whaddaya need?" says the Pan, not unkindly. He has a gear in one hand and a greasy rag in the other, oiling it well. His long, smooth-haired tail reaches over the counter to shake my extended hand, brilliant white teeth flashing in a smile.

"Um, well, I'm looking for someone named Ammi-Mano Vex, actually," I say, remembering to be extra polite. I always have to go out of my way to convince people I'm not some sort of pit-bull tugging against a fraying leash. "I heard he hangs out here."

The Pan laughs, throwing his head back. "Hangs out here? The boy lives here. I'm his big brother, Cam. Camion Vex. HEY MANO!" He suddenly shouts, causing me to jump at the hint of a roar in his voice. Reaching under the desk for a wrench, he hurls it up onto the loft. "You've got a fan or something wants to talk to ya!"

I hear a sleepy mumble from up above and footsteps clonking on the wooden loft. A mess of curly brown hair protrudes over the side, and a forehead, but that's all I can see of Ammi-Mano right now. "A fah?" he says. He sounds young. Well, I'm not really one to judge based on age, but still. He sounds like he's only a few years older than me.

"I dunno, just some Wallop, wants to see ya."

"My name is Junko," I add helpfully upwards, cupping my hand around my mouth and enunciating clearly. "Of the Storm Hawks."

There's a long stretch of silence from his end, broken only by a small cough and a shuffling around up there. I fidget, wondering what's taking him so long to react when he falls from the loft like a thunderbolt, landing square on his feet in front of me so heavily that the miscellaneous tools on the desk all shake and jump. It's my first full view of the guy, and I can see now why they say he's a demon.

Pans are all tall by nature, but Ammi-Mano is almost as tall as me. (I'm seven foot three, in case you're wondering.) He holds the waist of his pants up with one hand to keep them from falling down as he blearily looks up at me, the other hand scratching his bare, brown chest. Curling ram horns adorn his head, mingling with the wild mess of hair that looks like he hasn't had a hair cut in what most would call a decent amount of time. But it's his eyes that disturb me most, because unlike his brother's they are solid black without any white.

Then the black slides up and back down, a viscous second eyelid. Then they open all the way and I can see his eyes are actually honey gold.

"You're that Wallop wrestler?" he asks me, simian tail extending to gently take my hand and shake it.

"Uh, yeah."

He grins. "That's so cool," he says, grip tightening on my hand. "You know, you probably don't remember me or anything, but I was in the ICU with your blond friend for a while. Didn't think I'd ever actually run into you guys again without a bunch of needles sticking in my arms. Still got the scar on my noggin from where I was cracked over the head with a rusty pipe. So!" he steps back, tail returning to sway behind him, the tip of it curling over his head. "How can I help you, Junko-Of-The-Storm-Hawks?"

**OoOoOo**

**Finn.**

"Well, here's your dumb package," Rave says, tossing the brown bag at the human man. He's the tall, pale and handsome type- you know what I mean. That kind of guy you swear must be loaded just by looking at the threads on his back. He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a small yellow crystal- a perfectly normal energy crystal from the looks of it. He gives her the money, grinning wildly at the stone in his hands, and walks off.

"Uh-huh…" I say into Rave's ear after having snuck up close enough behind her to make her jump. "So what's this about? You looked like you were finishing up a drug transaction, dudette."

"F-Finn! Whoa!" She ducks and whirls around, rubbing at her ear. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, that was kind of the point." I rest on one of my crutches, smiling benignly at her attempts not to glance down every so often at the rolled up leg of my pants. The empty space there. "So when did you become buddy buddies with- with Lark?"

Rave scowls. "I didn't. I just still kind of owe her for bailing me and the Giants out of jail."

I frown at her, knowing there's more to what she's saying but unable to pinpoint exactly why she seems bound to Cyclonis. In the end I just shrug and hope the answer will come to me later. "Whatever," I say. "So you act as some sort of middle woman between the customers and the supplier, right?"

"Yep. You know, some people might connect her face to the crystals, get too curious…" Rave's ears flick to the side, her yellow-flecked eyes not leaving mine. "Find out something that would cause a commotion. And since I don't really have much of a job anymore…"

The space on her belt buckle where the intertwined G's of her old squadron used to rest seems so glaringly obvious when she puts it that way.

I smile sadly at her, at our missing parts. It's been a while since I'd seen her last- not since Gogo fired her, three months ago. "Mind if I go with you to see her?" I ask out of the blue. I'd wanted to just spend time with Rave, but then I had remembered something…

Rave blinks. "Uh, sure. I mean no!" she corrects herself, smacking her forehead a few times. "I wouldn't mind at all. We're supposed to meet up in the airspace just above the Terra. Then we split up till she needs me again."

"What, you two aren't roomies? You know, bunkmates? Slowly falling in love as you live together and learn to look past the faults of-"

She holds up one hand to shush me, ears falling flat against her skull. "Don't make me hurt you," she says, sickened.

**OoOoOo**

We find her, sure enough. I have a little trouble keeping up with Rave's board on my skimmer, especially since I couldn't make sharp turns without falling plum off. Now, this might seem painfully obvious, but I don't think I can stress enough how much it SUCKS to not have a leg. Still, I keep up well enough. I am a Storm Hawk after all.

Lark leans forward, resting her chin on the controls of her heliscooter as she meets my eyes with a smile that looks almost friendly. Rave hands her the money and she splits it in half, giving Rave her share. The bangledon licks her finger and begins to count while I hang back in silence, neither Lark nor I having moved our gazes once since I arrived. So I zoom a little closer, as close as I can manage without bumping our rides, and I speak to her.

"Don't try to tell me you don't know how to fly the _Condor_ ," I say, just loud enough to be heard over the motors.

Lark grins, impishly. "So you were there. It's taken you long enough to come find me."

"I was too busy learning how to walk, excuse me."

"Well, now you're here. And I have everything you need. Want to make something of it?"

I shake my head. "I just want to know if you remember, is all."

"Of course I remember. I wasn't asleep, like someone I could mention."

"Remember what?" The two of us glance over at Rave, startled out of our own secret world of death and sleep and memories. "Remember what?" she pokes again, zooming closer on her hover board and swinging upside down so that her long white hair forms a curtain in front of me. "Ready to skedaddle, Finn?"

Lark quirks an eyebrow at me. "Are you, Finland?"

I check my watch- almost time to meet up with Aerrow and Junko on the _Condor_. And even though I want to ask her more questions- questions about Stork- about what she knows- I can't with Rave around. I don't want to risk having to explain what happened in the month I was asleep. Shrugging, I say, "I guess. You take care of yourself, Lark."

She shoots me an odd look. "You Storm Hawks are strange, you know that? You and Aerrow, both being so polite to me. I could try and wreck your life, you know."

"You could try. I don't think you want to, though."

Rave looks from me to her and back again. Finally, she zooms close enough to smack me on the back of the head, once again dragging my eyes from Lark's captivating black ones. "Listen you two, stop being weird and let's go already!" With one foot, she kicks at my controls and my ride jerks to the side. I screech in a panic as I start to nose dive before managing to right my ride. I look around wildly for Rave to see she's above me again.

"You freak!" I shout up at her. "What are you, out of your mind? I'm not wearing a parachute!"

"Well, sorr-ee."

"Ugh. Come on, let's get out of here."

We zoom off towards the _Condor_.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

**The Next Day.**

"Hey guys!"

I turn around to see Camion and the other resident mechanic of Haven- a blizzarian named Edna-Mae- pushing through the crowds. We're all gathered just outside the city limits to see the race. A far cry from the flat city landscape, the other half of Forge is a series of mountains and valleys that used to be green before the pollutants of the city scorched them dry. Increasing winds brought sand to carve through the mountains, creating an endless series of tunnels and naturally formed roads- in other words, the extreme racer's paradise.

Rave, Finn, Junko, me, and of course Radarr stand behind the red line that marks off the spot where civilians could stand. There's no ropes of any kind, or any other barrier than the painted red mark on the ground because not being run over is incentive enough not to stray too close to the racers. I can spot Ammi-Mano easily enough, a monster among the lithe, younger riders all around him. Racers are generally small and streamlined, like Finn, so I wonder how Ammi-Mano makes up for this. His ride is clunky, too- a mix of spare parts and crystal-guzzling engines.

"How ya doin?" Edna-Mae asks me, clapping me heartily on the shoulder and knocking the wind out of me, so Junko has to answer for me.

"Fine," he says cheerily. "And you, Miss?"

Edna-Mae bursts into laughter, reaching up to lightly shove Junko away from her, her ears flipping from agitation. "Wh-what did you just call me?" she says. "Miss! How old do you think I am, bro?" Camion smirks at the question, watching all of us for an answer.

"Uhh…" Rave says, scratching at her ear. "Seventeen?"

Camion grins even more. "She's thirteen."

"Thir _teen_?" we all chorus in shock, staring openly at the blizzarian girl. She's only a few inches shorter than Finn! "Wow! Early bloomer, huh?"

Edna-Mae smirks at us, hands on her hips. Now that she mentions it, she does have a lot of baby fat still clinging to her face. I guess I assumed she was older due to her height and the fact that half her blue fur was bleached and dyed every color of the rainbow. Another thing about her was curious, so I figure it's not too rude to ask her. "So if you're a blizzarian, how'd you lose the accent?"

"Psh." Edna-Mae only pauses to wave at Ammi-Mano before returning her attention to us. "We aren't born with those, you know. I was raised here with Mano and Cam; I'm practically their sister. Spent more time with the pans than I did with the blizzarians, so naturally I learned to speak differently… eh." She says the last word quite on purpose, lightly poking fun of herself. We all start laughing madly and then before we know it it's time for the race. The crowd pushes as close to the red line as they dare, a few even overstepping it.

"Should we cheer for Mano?" Junko asks me uncertainly. I shrug.

"Sure, why not?" is Finn's opinion. "If he wins or loses, he already said he wouldn't be our carrier pilot, right? Might as well wish the best for the guy, and it's not like there's anyone else we know running the race… Aerrow." He looks pointedly at me.

I nod grudgingly- it was true, yesterday Ammi-Mano had flat out rejected the idea of becoming our carrier pilot, and when I had tried to enter the race myself (not being one to miss out on a new challenge) they had told me I had missed the deadline for enlisting. Still, we decided to stay and watch the race to break the monotony a little, and to see if there were any other promising pilots out there.

"Well then, let's all start cheering. On three, we do the thing!" I say a little louder, and then I shout: "THREE!"

"MA-NO!" the Storm Hawks and Rave shout, breaking up his name into two distinct, paused syllables, and then clap three times in rapid succession. Edna-Mae, Camion, and a few other fans in the audience all join in with us. "MA-NO!" Clapclapclap! "MA-NO!" Clapclapclap! "MA-NO!" Clapclapclap! " _MA_ - _NO_!" Clapclapclap! "MA-NOOOOOOOOO…! YEAAAAAAAH!"

"You can do eeeeet!" Finn adds in a scarily good impression of a girlish screech, cupping his hands around his mouth, and we all laugh again. Engineers and mechanics- specially picked by the judges and wearing caps to mark them as a part of the staff in charge of the race- go to each ride and check to make sure no velocity crystals or other sorts of contraband ride-enhancers were being used.

" _ **RIDERS, ARE YOU READY**_?"

Then the race started. The riders all started up the engines to their racers and the sounds of the crowd intensified, a moving mass of screaming, frenzied excitement and living energy.

" _ **GO**_!"

The squeal of tires burning rubber on the ground overwhelm everything else as they all take off, the motors of souped-up engines growling and snarling. Big screen TVs blare into life and everyone surges forward past the red line to get a little closer, jumping up and down and cheering for their chosen racer. Ammi-Mano's advantage soon becomes clear when the rushing winds of the badlands bring scouring sand, completely scraping off the paint jobs of some of the fancier models and knocking them off the road and out of control. His old, beat up ride stands up better against the onslaught, but the winds haven't even taken out one tenth of the riders so there's still a lot of competition left. There was no set course on the map- and the natural roads of the mountain trails sometime lead straight into a rock wall. A lot of riders get smashed this way- literally- but Ammi-Mano is a pan native to the mountains and must be pretty familiar with the locale.

"That's my boy! That's my boy!" Camion keeps on saying, thumping Edna-Mae over and over on the back with his balled up fist. She's jumping rapidly in place, ears flopping up and down and a big grin on her face.

Ammi-Mano establishes himself as the lead racer, always riding a few meters faster than the rapidly changing second place. But then a newcomer roars up, coattails flapping in the wind as he zooms even faster than Mano- _way_ faster than Mano- _passing_ Mano- and leaves Mano in the dust. Even from the TV screen I can see the look of shock on the pan's face as he desperately tries to keep up, but the newcomer is already way out of his league.

"Hey, its Count Dracula!" Finn suddenly exclaims, waving one crutch in the air and jabbing it at the face of the newcomer. "Right, Rave?" he says, "Isn't that the dude-"

Rave surprises us all by clapping a hand over Finn's mouth and glaring at him before dragging him away from us all to speak sharply to him, saying something I can't hear over the noise of the crowd. Huh. I wonder what that's all about? But before I can reach them to try and figure out what's going on, someone shouts: "They're coming back!" and the crowd all rushes back towards the red line, dragging us with them.

And sure enough, Ammi-Mano and the "Dracula" racer come speeding forward, somehow neck and neck. Mano's ride is smoking, though, so he must be pushing her beyond her limit just to keep up with the rider. His eyes are wide, the thick black membrane of his second eyelids protecting his eyes from the grit. But with one amused look to the side, Mr. Dracula speeds up one last time just before crossing the finish line and skidding to a stop. But Ammi-Mano can't stop- his ride goes out of control, swerving and skidding and crackling with sparks of the crystal converter malfunctioning. He goes down with a crash, flying from his ride and tumbling in the dirt.

"Mano!"

Edna-Mae tries to go past the red line, but Camion grabs her- just in time, too, because the rest of the riders have all sped past them. Ammi-Mano seems to be fine though- getting to his feet and dragging his ride just a little off the side of the road before they both get run over. And then he stomps towards the Dracula racer, the sounds of his shouts swamped by the noise of the crowd. And before anyone knows what he's doing he's reached Dracula rider and socked him square in the face. Five mechanics swarm out to tackle Ammi-Mano, pinning him down while two others go to help Mr. Dracula.

"You lying, filthy cheat!" Ammi-Mano shouts. "Judges! Judges! Check that man's ride for a velocity crystal array! _He's using a velocity crystal array_! Listen to me!"

Some of what he's saying must be causing unrest among the fans because the judges look uncertainly from Dracula to his ride. A few mechanics take it apart and see there is a velocity crystal array- but only a plain old energy crystal in the spot where the accelerator should be. They take it out and scratch their heads over it a little, and somewhere to the side I hear Rave and Finn arguing loudly until finally Rave shouts: "Use a crystal scope on it!"

The crowd goes eerily silent, nobody saying a word as one of the mechanics returns a few moments later with a crystal scope in hand.

The power meter goes off the chart, and the crowd begins to howl.

"Cheat! Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!"

"Who is he, anyway?"

"I don't even see his name on the list!"

"That little sneak!"

"How did he hide the crystal that way? What kind of mechanic can miss something like that?"

"But that's impossible- you can't hide a crystal's identity!"

"Kill the bastard!"

Mr. Dracula takes off, but not for very far. Two racers speed up behind him, each grabbing an arm and lifting him off the ground as they switch into air mode, cackling madly. Dracula screams in fright, long legs kicking madly and when they're high enough, they let him go. He's not very high up, but certainly high enough to break a few bones on impact. I wince when he hits the ground, knowing how deadly an insult cheating is on Terra Forge. He should be considered lucky if that's all they do to him.

Ammi-Mano wheels his trashed ride over to us, a bruise forming on his cheek from where a mechanic had punched him, bristling with indignation as he wheels back towards town. "Whoa!" I say, running up behind him with Edna-Mae close behind. "Hey, doesn't that make you first place? Don't you want to claim your prize?"

Ammi-Mano stares at me as though I've gone crazy. "Prize? Ain't no prizes on Terra Forge- just reputation. And that kid over there just lost whatever reputation he might have ever had." He nods over to where Dracula lays in a groaning heap of snapped bones, carefully being carted up and out to the nearest hospital.

Tail snapping back and forth behind him, he goes back home.

**OoOoOo**

"Well, great," Finn sighs, head on the table. "We don't have a pilot. Or at least not the one we want."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Finn, we'll go to other Terras. Besides, we can manage the _Condor_ fine on our own for a little while longer, right?"

Rave bounces into the room. "Say!" she says. "Since you're also a little short on hands, mind if I bunk with you guys for a while?"

We all look at each other, blinking in confusion. "Well… sure!" Junko says at last. "If you don't mind sleeping in Piper or Starling's old room."

A small ripple runs through me at the mention of their names, but I agree with him. "Of course, Rave. Absolutely, Junko's right. There's plenty of room here."

"And we can be called the Temporary Storm Hawks!" Finn says, trying to crack a joke out of it.

 _It provokes a few chuckles, but none of them knew how true it would become. An extra bed is put in Starling's room- the spot where Stork and Piper once stood is constantly being replaced by a steady stream of part-timers. Lynn, the girl they met from Talon Academy. Edna-Mae, Camion, and yes, even Ammi-Mano sometimes signed on to the Storm Hawks, when the time was available for them to spare and space was available on the_ Condor _. Mercenaries, old friends, Rave- when the itch in her toes was gone, and she felt like she could stand being ordered around again. But they always left. Even if they later came back for another run of it, they always left. The only ones they saw with any regularity was Lark and Rave- Lark for her monthly visits, and Rave for her more frequent but shorter stays._

_The Temporary Storm Hawks indeed._

_And as for Stork's room- well, that was the reason they needed to add an extra bed to Starling's old room. Nobody could get inside it, not even Lark. Sometime before he had died, Stork set a password into it that no one could ever break or figure out._

" _Password?" Stork's recorded voice asks them, sending a stab of pain through their heart as they remember him, his weak smile, the times he would touch them to help them up if they had fallen, or maybe even a friendly grip on your shoulder. Sometimes when he hears that voice Junko bursts into tears. Nobody else does, though. They just stare at the closed door and they wonder if Piper knows the password. They think she does. She's the only one who hasn't tried to open it, yet, because one year and five months pass on the_ Condor _after she initially left before they saw her again._

_The political situation also grew worse, worse than anyone thought possible. Wars even began between Terras, and no mediation on the Storm Hawk's part could stop it. After all, who would listen to a broken squadron? Even if that squadron was led by the Dark Ace, he was just one man._

_And they were still just kids._

_Even if they didn't feel like it anymore._

**OoOoOo**

**The Conversation.**

" _There's something I feel I should tell you. And it's taken me this long to tell you not out of shame, but because I wanted to settle my affairs in this world before you kill me."_

_Aerrow sets his mug down, sits forward, and fixes his eyes on hers. He doesn't say anything- his mind is blank as well. He doesn't know what she means, but it's obviously bad news. And bad news is seriously the last thing he needs right now. "Spit it out," she says. "Just say it. Now."_

_Even so, it takes her a moment to remember the words. What order they go in._

_And then she says it._

" _I was the one who brought Nova back to life."_

_It's the first time she's said his name in over a year._

" _I figured as much."_

" _It was an accident," she says._

" _Lark, it's OK."_

_Is that a hint of panic creeping into her voice? Where is the anger she expected? The accusations? "I didn't mean to," she adds in a rush._

" _Lark…" he tries to take her hand but she wrenches free from him, expecting punishment and receiving only acceptance._

" _You don't understand!" She slams her fists against the table, closes her eyes. They're alone on the_ Condor _\- this is the first time that's ever happened. Figures she'd use this chance to tell him first, since it deals most directly with him. "It's my fault he came back! That he killed Stork! I was the one who kept him alive and close to this world- he had_ possessed _me! I was utterly out of control and I was sick of it! Sick of him raping my mind!" She stands up now, hands still on the table and her blazing red eyes daring him to interrupt her, to stop her. "You know that cage you found me in? I put that there to remind me- even if I stepped outside, I'd always be caged in by that ghost inside me, just waiting for me to let my guard down so he could control me again! I spent two years living off of scraps, doing nothing but trying to exorcise my own body! And I succeeded, damn it, I did it! I ripped him from me and set him free into this world and because of that everything else got_ fucked _up,_ including _me."_

 _He pushes his chair out to walk around the table and stand next to her because she's still facing he spot where he had sat. She turns her head only the barest of inches, watching him out of the corner of her eye and waiting for him to do something. And he ends up doing the last thing she expected: Holding her tightly. She'd never had that much physical intimacy with another person when there were no sexual undertones involved. But they_ had _grown intimate over the past year- somehow. She realizes this now because he hasn't touched her once in that whole year, and with this contact brings the awareness of how the wall between them had broken. Full physical contact- not those weird hugs that some friends do, where they bend over so that only the top of their chests touch. She molds against him, like they fit together somehow even though everything about anything that has to do with Lark is unstable to begin with._

" _It's OK," he says again._

_He's far from the only person she needs forgiveness from, but she doubts anyone else could have made her feel so at peace with her sordid past._

**OoOoOo**

**Piper.**

**One Year Later.**

Talk about a blast from the past.

I follow the two of them through the grey cobblestone street, snowflakes catching in the fur fringe of my jean jacket and melting and running down my flesh. But I don't really care. I don't even wonder what I'll say, when I reveal myself to them. Because I know I will reveal myself to them before the day is over- to Lark, at least. It's her I need to talk to, not Aerrow.

"You really didn't need to escort me here," Lark says to him, that massive brown bear she calls a dog trotting by her side. He's so big she doesn't even need to lean over to absent mindedly pat his head- and that means a lot, seeing as how she somehow shot up a few inches in height over the past year. Maybe all that old evil stuff was weighing her down, cause she's a good two heads taller than me now. Or maybe she just wasn't feeding herself right before- I mean, as Cyclonis I know she was always busy, and in the two years after that she was locked up as a hermit, so she couldn't have been eating three square meals a day.

"Nah," Aerrow says, rolling his shoulders. He's wearing a turtleneck sweater as bright a shade red as his hair, and an emerald green scarf around his neck, and jeans. My memory of him is always him in uniform- just like my memory of her was always black hair and purple eyes. But her hair is as white as the snow around us, and if she doesn't mind that she probably wouldn't have gone through the trouble of disguising her eyes as well. "I'm actually kind of curious about this whole Star business. I mean, is it a crystal or something? And how do you know it'll be here?"

Lark shakes her head, her breath coming out as a fog. "I don't know," she admits. "I think it's here because this is where the first Cyclonis built his castle. There's a series of catacombs beneath the city, too, and I'm certain that's where he's buried. And since it is the Star of _Cyclonia_ … well, it's most likely related to something in our family."

Aerrow shoves his hands into his pockets, kicking aside a mound of snow in front of him. The streets were cleared every morning, but it was already midday so they were starting to get crowded again. "Makes sense," he says, a note of anger creeping into his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not like I can lie about who I am."

"…Still, we are the only two who have had a dream about it."

"Actually," I say, stepping forward at last. "You're not."

They both whirl around, fog escaping from their wide open mouths as they gasp and then exhale as though they've just been punched in the guts. Well, I suppose I'd react the same way too, if I saw a ghost. Terra Flanoir is not friendly to me, so I pull my jacket closer around my body and breathe out a jet of fog, waiting for one of them to do something. Lark is the first one to react- negatively, of course.

"Tell me why I shouldn't start this by sicking my dog on you!" she snarls, holding tight onto the mutt's collar. He, perhaps sensing his master's agitation, is already snarling at me and tugging against her restraining hand, hackles raised. He woofs, loudly, a sharp bark that sounds more like him being sick than anything else.

I think about her question seriously, one hand on my chin as I contemplate the floor. Then I look up at her, eyebrows raised. "Because I'm a good kisser?" I hazard.

"Oh, that _does_ it-"

"Lark!" Aerrow puts one arm across her chest, keeping her from lunging at me herself. And then he looks at me, eyes pleading. "Piper…"

I hold up one hand, softly smiling, and he silences at once. "Aerrow. I'm not here to talk to you. So perhaps it's best if you don't talk to me. All I want-" I point to Lark. "-Is her."

"Yeah, well get in line," she quips.

"Not in that sense, honey. Not in that sense."

"Piper!" Aerrow says again. "I don't understand. Where the hell have you _been_? I looked for you! We all looked for you!Why did you _-_ "

" _I said don't talk to me_!"

He's stunned into silence once more and I take advantage of it. "I _left_ because I couldn't stand that place, everyone pretending like he never existed." The words might be harsh but my tone is calm. From behind my sunglasses I can hide my eyes, and that makes it even easier- not that he'd be able to see much if I didn't have them, anyway. I've stopped looking into the mirror lately, sometimes frightened by what I see in it. "Now if you don't mind _shutting your mouth_ , I can speak to Lark." I then promptly turn to her. "Where's the Star?"

Her grip tightens on her dog's collar. "Why should I tell you?"

That makes me pause. "I see," I say. "So you really don't know where it is, do you?"

"No. I don't. And if I did, you'd be the last to know, right after your mother."

Then this is a trip wasted. Still, might as well dig the wedge deeper between us while I have the chance. "So vehement, Lark," I say. "I thought you didn't care about the Storm Hawks? What changed your mind so much that you'd be angry at what I did?" I glance between her and Aerrow and I wonder.

And I wonder.

She doesn't have an answer- not that I was really expecting one. "Never mind," I say, and I turn around. "You two go have fun in this frigid hole, cause I know for a fact that the Star isn't here. I'm leaving."

As I leave, ignoring Aerrow's plea to stay, I remember a bit too late that the direction the three of us had come from had been from the _Condor_ , of course. So of course it's no surprise that I bump into Finn. I see him first, of course, of course. You can't see what you don't expect. He clumps along on his crutches, bundled up against the weather like I was. I don't change my course, just keep on walking even after I know he's spotted me. Because he stands stock still in the middle of the icy road as I walk towards him.

And I stop in front of him. He looks down at me, looking nothing so much as perplexed. Not shocked. Not confused. Just a mild _"what the…"_ sort of expression, eyebrows raised high.

"What?" I ask him shortly. "Are you going to shoot me again?"

He shakes his head no.

"Then get out of my way."

He shakes his head no again. "I don't hate you for what you did," he tells me.

"Mmm," I say in response, waiting for him to move, refusing to have to walk around him.

And then his expression freezes so suddenly he might have been made of ice. He reaches forward, grabs me by my arm, and tells me: "And I don't miss you, either."

"Perhaps that's for the best," I say to him, merely cool in the face of his frost. "Because I'm never coming back."

"I know that, too. Just like I knew I'd see you today." He pulls now on my lower arm, yanking my gloved hand to his chest. "Because I dreamed it. And my dreams have a habit of becoming truth nowadays. The only difference is your gloves, they weren't black, they were…. _Ahh_ …" He takes my hand now so that its facing palm up. The back of it is black, but the palm- the palm is lime green. "There we go."

Though I don't want to admit it, this is disturbing me.

"Want to know what else I dreamed?"

No.

"That you're not really Piper. That's what I dreamed." He clonks away on his crutches, the muted _tunk_ of his leg in rhythm with the sharp crack of the wood against the stone. "So leave us alone, Whoever-You-Are. You're nothing but trouble now." I don't move from the spot, instead I watch him go, pulling a cigarette out from inside my jacket. In one practiced movement, I strike a match against my jacket and lift it up to the tip, my mind distant as I mull over what he said. It makes sense. For the last year I had actually been going under an alias, so yeah… I suppose I really am someone else now. Finn only confirmed what I already knew.

I turn around to go back to my ship only to run smack-dab into Rave. "Oh God, _another_ one?" I exclaim, a little fed up with this by now. "Listen, if you're going to give me a speech about how I should or should not come back-"

"N-no," Rave says, quickly shaking her head and holding her hands up for peace. "I'm not going to try and bring you back. I just want to know if I can go with you."

I hold the cigarette lightly between my teeth, watching her warily for a few moments and letting the cylinder turn into ashes without any of the good stuff actually going down my lungs. I wait until the cigarette is nothing but a stub between my teeth and Rave's ears are flicking from side to side to shake off the snow that had been gathering on her head before I say, "…Fine."

"…Fine?"

"Yeah. Fine. Come on…" I flick the cigarette aside and pull out a new one, making the trip back to the docks with Rave following behind me, jogging to keep up and anxiously watching me for signs of me changing my mind. "The _Mercury_ is this way. I smoke indoors, by the way. Let me know now if that's going to be a problem. Because I could always smoke out on the deck."

"Uh… no." She walks next to me now, shooting me odd glances every now and then. "…When did you, um…"

"…Start smoking?"

"Yeah."

"Right after I left."

"Where did you-?"

"-Go?"

"…Yeah."

"I lived with Arygyn," I tell her, because I don't hold any grudges against Rave. She never knew Stork. She's not at fault for not mourning him. "Trained with him, actually. And here we are, at the gateway to madness." I stop in front of the _Mercury_ \- a class B merchant ship remodeled to fit human cargo, namely, a crew. It's smaller than the _Condor_ , but that's OK. So far, it's just me living there. Now me and Rave, assuming she doesn't chicken out. "The _Condor_ and sanity is right over there if you want it," I remind her, holding the new cigarette out between my fingers and pointing at the larger bird, resting a few meters away from me. "I suggest you take it, since I know you're only coming with me to keep tabs on me for them anyway."

She winces. "Where are we-" she starts, trying to divert the conversation elsewhere, and I finish her sentence for her again.

"-Going?"

"Yes!" she says, a little annoyed now as she clambers onboard, following me closely. "Piper, this is crazy. You leave- and now you're back-!"

"We're going wherever the wind takes us," I tell her, cutting off her happy little speech before it gets too long. I speak as I start up the bird, let her warm up, snap all the right levers and push all the right buttons. "Did you leave anything on the _Condor_? Your clothes? Weapons? Heart?"

"I live out of my backpack most of the time," Rave answers, a little dizzied by the fast pace things were taking. But that's how I operate now. Arygyn sort of rubbed off on me, I'm afraid. "And I have that… Um… on my back…"

"Good. Then let's go- we have a falling Star to catch." I focus on the blue sky ahead of me, slamming my fist down on the control that would close the hatch and then reaching for a lever, wrenching it back with a crunch of gears to power up the engine. "Now, where was the lever for…?"

A pale hand, a mildly shifting ephemeron of otherworldly power slips into my frame of view, fist gently closing over the right lever. "Right," I murmur to my ghost. "Right. Thank you."

She's not called the _Mercury_ for nothing. I pull that lever and we rocket out of the docks like a bat out of hell.

**OoOoOo**

**Aerrow.**

We all had a lot of theories of what the Star could be. Based on the dream I had- about how it was a book that I needed to read and then burn or write over- or something like that- naturally Junko thought it was an actual book. Finn was convinced it was a highly valuable jewel. Radarr hoped that it was a machine that created food. However, due to Piper's reaction over it- and the fact that she wanted it so badly- it would have to be either one of two things:

An exceedingly rare crystal,

Or a weapon of unimaginable power.

I kept this last theory to myself, not wanting to upset anybody. I knew I was kept awake at night, wondering if Lark or Piper had found it yet and I didn't want to inflict that one everyone else. I didn't even know where to begin looking, and with the increase of rogues and pirates out there the Storm Hawks were always busy, flying from one Terra to the next. For the next six months, Lark visited us six times and I would greet her the same way- "Found it yet?" and she would answer the same way, "No, but I'm getting closer. I'm sure of it. And you'll be the first person to know when I find it."

So the days pass. I stand now at the bridge, taking my turn for the graveyard shift. I sit in one of the chairs, twiddling my thumbs to pass the time, and fighting back sleep with every second. I receive a hail every now and then- these days, it's customary to hail anyone you pass in the night, a sort of system we've developed to tell pirates from normal sky farers. If it's a pirate, they won't hail you back, and then it's fair game for shooting somebody out of the clouds.

Another hail. Beebeebeebeep.

I flick on the communicator, drawl out, "Carrier ship _Condor_ , returning hail. Who's out there?"

And Lark answers.

" _Aerrow_ …" Static fills the radio. "… _nd…r…rrow… oun… Star_."

Eyes widening, I jiggle the antenna of the communicator, trying to get a better signal in the cloudy night. "What? Repeat that last phrase, Lark, I didn't hear-"

" _I found it_ ," she says, and that's the last clear thing I hear before all gives way to static. Static for five more tense minutes. And then: " _Wou… ffin… s...pr...se… need help… lost a lot of blood..."_

"Lark! Where are you?"

" _Communications_ …" she says. " _Damaged… mmuni…ed… ged… tion dama_ …."

"Where are you?"

By now the whole ship is awake, frightened by my panicked shouts into the radio. "What's going on?" Junko asks, clutching tightly to his teddy bear. "Who's-?"

"Shhh!" I hiss at him.

"… _can give you my coordinates_ …"

I point at Finn, urgency in my eyes, and he scrambles for a piece of paper and a pen, trying to copy down the mangled directions. She repeats it several times, and keeps on repeating it as we plot the course and hit the high speed impeller to find her. All over and over again, I hear her voice, the coordinates, the plea to hurry, that she was attacked by griffins, that's she's lost a lot of blood, and most importantly that she found the Star.

"I bet it's a jewel," Finn says, jittery in anxiety. "That's why the griffins attacked her. They're known guard beasts. Easier to tame than phoenixes."

"Finn, now is not the time," I mumble.

"Then when is the time? When it's on the ship and we're all ogling at it like a bunch of retards cause we didn't make a plan when we had a chance?"

"Finn-"

"There she is!" Junko suddenly shouts and we screech to a halt, swinging open the hangar door to let in the badly damaged heliscooter. We all run, shoving past each other in our haste to see the famous Star- to see if Lark is all right- just to plain see. Lark is crumpled over the controls to her heliscooter, her cape draped around her, completely hiding her form except for one leg that juts out, stiff with infection and badly cared for. The side compartment where Bruno usually sits is covered in a tarp, with a small lump just under it. _That's it_ , I think dizzily. _That's the Star_.

"Are you OK?" I ask. "Where's Bruno?"

"Where is _it_?" Junko asks.

" _What_ is it?" Finn asks.

Lark groans. "I'm fine," she says in answer to my question, shaking aside my hand as I try to help her up. "No, no, let me sit here… let me… recuperate for a moment, would you?" We back up, give her breathing room. "Bruno's fine, I'd dropped him off at The Colonel's 'cause the roach wanted to admire him or something for a week or two. Uh!" she falls from her ride as she tries to stand on her good leg, going down faster than a pile of bricks. Junko supports her, lets her stand up because he knows her pride would take a serious hit if she allowed herself to be carried anywhere. "The Star… The Star…" she says, leaning heavily on our muscular friend. "Please, Aerrow, we have to take him somewhere safe. You have to. You have to keep him safe."

 _Him_?

I pull away the tarp to see a boy curled up on Bruno's seat, fast asleep, though his sleep appears to be fitful because he whimpers and moans with his eyes closed.

A boy.

A boy with black hair.

A boy.

I can only gaze helplessly at Lark, so many questions dying on my tongue. "What…"

The answer is only one word.

"Immer's." Then her red eyes soften, narrow in frustration. "Please, Aerrow. I took him to the only safe place left on Atmos."

The safest place on Atmos…

The Dark Ace's son…

My choice…

"T-take her to Starling's room," I stammer, reaching down to pick up the child. His arms wrap around my shoulders instinctively in his sleep, head resting on my neck with complete trust. I don't think about it, just follow Junko and Lark while Finn takes up the rear.

"Wait," Lark says, though, before we reach the room. "Not this way."

And she stands on her own, walking unsteadily towards the door to Stork's room. "Here," she says, looking up at the imposing steel doors. Her hands spread against the cool steel, pale and stark against the darkness, eyes full of hope. "I'm staying here."

"Password?" Stork asks her, leering voice daring her to make a mistake.

Lark doesn't falter, this time. "Piper," she says, pressing her forehead against the door and hunching her shoulders. "Piper."

There's a long pause, almost as if the voice really were Stork, shocked that she had discovered his well-kept secret. "Very well," is his grudging, recorded voice, and the doors to Stork's room slide open. Lark stumbles in, collapses on the bed and falls asleep on it before her bloodstained, sweaty head hits the pillow.

 _And that was when Lark and Stern Cyclonia began to live full time on the_ Condor _, and the Temporary Storm Hawks were no more._

**OoOoOo**

" _Piper…"_

" _I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that anymore, Rave." The girl with no name sits on the ground of the abandoned Terra, looking up at the starlit night sky, her sunglasses resting on her side, always at reach. "I've been going under a different name for a while now. So it would be best if you got used to that one instead."_

"… _what is it?"_

" _I'll tell you in a moment." She smiles at the other girl, a real smile. "Right now, the night is too beautiful to talk. Don't you think?"_

_So they lie on their backs, and count how many shooting stars they can find._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_Shooting stars really aren't that rare. There's nothing special about them. If you live in a city obviously they'll be harder to find, but on a clear night like this… well, the sky's the limit for how many you could see in only an hour._

" _I'll stay-"_

_Four._

" _-With you-"_

_Five._

" _For however long it takes for you to go back home, Piper."_

_Six._

_The girl's plan is to smoke the entire carton of cigarettes tonight so she'll get sick._

_Seven._

_She stops on the seventh cigarette, though, the white crumpled object in her hand hovering just above her mouth._

_The match is burning brightly in the darkness._

_Unless you have ever been in a place completely untouched by man, you will never know exactly how dark it is without all our artificial lights. She flicks aside the cigarette, instead remaining on her back with the flickering light of the match above her face, another star in the endless sky, burning brighter than any of them._

_The sky is bright but the ground is dark, except for that one_

_flickering_

_match._

_The yellow light of it can be seen even from far away, until eventually even that solitary flame… dies down._

_And the scenery is gently coaxed back into the quiet, calm embrace of the night._

_~Fin._


End file.
